The Whisky Wedding
by elizabethann.west.7
Summary: She wakes up Mrs. Darcy with no idea how it happened! Now available as an ebook on all major retailers. THANK YOU Fanfiction readers, you all are the BEST! XOXOX EAW.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I have 4 projects simultaneously in development: this one, the 4th book in my Moralities of Marriage Series, Book 6 in my Seasons of Serendipity series, and a serial called Disguise of Every Sort. I am just beginning my journey of writing 6-15,000 words per week across those projects so some may get updated as the Muse sees fit. This project is a bit of a dark horse though and I am sharing 4 chapters to get a feel for what the fans think. Please leave me a review if you want this story to continue and I shall do my best to keep up with demand! When I know people are reading, that pesky Muse of mine delights in writing more and more and more :)**

 ** _XOXOX Elizabeth Ann West_**

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Elizabeth Bennet's left nostril twitched in a perturbed fashion. Without opening her eyes, she dreamily attempted to scratch the offending body part with her right hand. But her right hand, attached to her right arm, felt an enormous weight that would not signify in her half-asleep mind. Therefore, the consequence of an itchy nose demanded at least one eyelid to lazily lift and give a blurred glance at her invalid arm.

Intelligence gathered by one eye quickly required the confirmation of a second eye, followed by a squawk of surprise as her entire body pushed and shoved a retreat from the other body inhabiting the bed with her! Groping at the thin sheet to cover her naked form, Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut lest she wake the burly, somewhat hairy, man who had slumbered easily nestled next to her. His back facing her side of the bed, the broad muscular structure of his shoulders and bare back declared her bedmate definitively male. Though not unpleasing to view, she could not allow herself such idiotic indulgences.

Her sandy eyes blinked furiously, she urgently wished to push the last remaining befuddlement of this disastrous awakening out of her mind so that she might think of a plan. Panic rose with the bile threatening to overcome her senses as Elizabeth tried to think about her needs. Clothing first, most certainly, and then an escape.

Shakily, she covered her face to focus as she sat up in the bed and tucked her knees to her chest. A bit of cool and smooth metal brushed against her cheek from her right hand. Elizabeth removed that palm to hold it out for closer inspection.

"Oh no, no it cannot be," she whispered.

An emerald stone and gold band she had never seen before silently glimmered as a testament to what her gut already feared. Between the token on her hand, her state of undress, and her proximity to a male of the species, Elizabeth Bennet began to believe she was Elizabeth Bennet no more.

But who was the man she had lost her heart to in Scotland? What tricks and deception had he wrought that she remembered very little aside from coming to the border to search for her sister Lydia...

AN: More to come! :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to eagle eyes after scene 38 published here, one fix of a timeline turned into a new start for the story that I think gives a stronger justification to Elizabeth's running away in Scotland, more understanding for Mr. Bennet's depression, and more screentime for Jane and Richard. This chapter is altered from it's original posting. We no longer start in London but at Longbourn.

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

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Elizabeth Bennet peeked through the curtains of her father's study. When the lane outside remained empty, the second eldest daughter of Longbourn sighed and allowed the curtain to fall back closed.

"A watched lane never boils, Lizzie" Mr. Bennet continued to play solitaire. The activity required a solo-effort as his favorite daughter refused to play gin while waiting for her aunt and uncle to arrive for their summer journey to the Peak District.

"A watched pot never boils, you're mixing your anecdotes, Father." Lizzie took a brief stroll about the room, which amounted to little more than a half circle around her father's desk and then back again to the window. This time when she tucked back the curtain there was a visitor coming down the lane, on horseback. Lizzie scrunched up her nose.

"See, a watched lane does produce a visitor. It looks like a soldier on a horse…" Elizabeth voice trailed off as she looked frantically at her father. Her youngest sister, Lydia, had gone to Brighton as the particular guest of Colonel Forster and his wife for the militia's summer encampment.

"Go and fetch your Mother." Mr. Bennet shuffled the cards to re-stack the deck and tucked it into his desk drawer. The housekeeper Hill announced the arrival of Colonel Forster and showed him into the master's study.

By the time Elizabeth arrived with her mother, Mrs. Bennet was already in near hysterics worried about her poor Lydia.

"Oh Colonel, how good of you to come. How is our daughter?" Mrs. Bennet fluttered a handkerchief as she refused to enter more than two steps into her husband's study. The Colonel turned and offered the mother of his houseguest a grim expression.

"As I have just told your husband, Mrs. Bennet, it is very grave indeed. A lieutenant in my unit, Mr. Wickham, has deserted with your daughter with intentions to marry over the border. I have given your husband here a letter that Lydia left for my wife."

"Oh heavens!" Mrs. Bennet clutched her chest and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Elizabeth and the Colonel scrambled forward to catch a fainting Mrs. Bennet before she hit the floor.

"Papa?" Elizabeth exclaimed as her father stood like a statue behind his desk, his wife crumpled to the floor.

Hearing his daughter's voice awakened Mr. Bennet into action. He and a footman carried Mrs. Bennet up the stairs to her bedroom as Hill announced the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.

"Lizzie, can you and Jane help your mother? I shall go tell your aunt and uncle that your trip must be canceled." Mr. Bennet placed a kiss on his wife's forehead as Mrs. Bennet began to stir from the application of her smelling salts. Elizabeth nodded. Her father left the room and Jane entered it to join Lizzie at their mother's side. The other two Bennet sisters were luckily away visiting the Lucases and were spared the dreadful news of Lydia's flight.

"Oh, you girls are ruined, all ruined. And you, poor Jane, so beautiful. All wasted now!" Mrs. Bennet lamented.

"Do not say such things, Mama. Father and Uncle will find Lydia and make them marry," Elizabeth said.

"Your father and Mr. Wickham shall have to duel. Your father will be killed! And we shall be thrown out!" Mrs. Bennet turned and slanted her eyes at her second eldest daughter. "Oh why Lizzie, why did you not marry Mr. Collins?"

Mrs. Bennet began to berate Elizabeth over rejecting her cousin that was to inherit Longbourn due to the entail. She received a sympathetic look from her sister Jane. Jane distracted her mother as Elizabeth retreated from the bed and stood by the door so that she could hear the voices below stairs.

She heard the discussion between her father, uncle and aunt in the main entryway, and began to think of an idea. Elizabeth walked back over to the bed as her mother lay in another fit of hysterics.

"I shall simply die if I lose my daughter. I will die I tell you. My nerves cannot, they cannot –" Mrs. Bennet's next statement gargled somewhere into her throat as she pretended to choke on the very sentiment of losing Lydia. As much as she disappointed her mother on a daily basis, Elizabeth's heart seized in that moment to see the woman who gave birth to her in such distress. There had to be more that could be done to find Lydia and she looked at Jane and tilted her head gently so that Jane joined her by the door. Elizabeth opened the door little wider so that more of what was being said below could be heard above.

"All reports that we have are that Mr. Wickham and Miss Lydia headed to London first. I do not mean to besmirch your daughter, sir, but I don't believe the character of that soldier to be steadfast. I fear he will abandon her favors just as soon as they reach town." Colonel Forster explained how another lieutenant, Mr. Denny, testified to him that Wickham held no long-term designs on the hand of Ms. Lydia Bennet.

"If we change my team of horses with yours, Brother, we can leave within the hour back to London," Mr. Gardiner said.

Elizabeth looked at her sister Jane, her older sister's eyes wide with fear. "They are only going to look in London. That is a mistake. What if they never go to London at all and head straight for the border from Brighton?" Elizabeth whispered as more and more plans were being made below.

"Father and Uncle know what's best. They will find Lydia," Jane said.

"And if they do not it is our reputations that are ruined. We shall never have another offer from a respectable man again." Elizabeth bit her lower lip and thought bitterly of Mr. Darcy, the tall man from Derbyshire who she had rejected out of hand over grave misunderstandings. Her trip with her aunt and uncle was to ride through the hamlet of Lambton and Elizabeth had planned on asking to stop at Pemberley in hopes of renewing the acquaintance. More importantly, she wished fervently to apologize to Mr. Darcy for her utter stupidity in believing the woes and tales of Mr. Wickham. It was true that Mr. Darcy had slighted her first, but Elizabeth had allowed the illogical story of a jilted man cloud her judgment further.

"What are you thinking, Lizzie?" Jane asked, having her own regrets with Mr. Darcy's friend, Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bingley had visited the previous autumn and while for a time it appeared he might offer for Jane, the entire party left for London in December with not another word.

Elizabeth shrugged and then stood up taller as she realized how they might search in two directions at once. "Come with me below stairs, and just follow my lead. You go to London with father and uncle, and I will go with aunt toward Scotland in hopes of heading them off if they go there."

"But the expense?" Jane asked but Elizabeth furiously shook her head.

"There should be very little additional expense, aunt and uncle already paid for us to travel as far as the Peak District. Gretna Green is just another fifty miles." Elizabeth ticked off the distance with her fingers as she knew Jane had not studied geography as well as she had. Echoes of a conversation with Mr. Darcy about the trifling matter of traversing fifty miles of good road filled her mind.

Jane looked furtively back at her mother's bed as the woman continued to whimper and cry. "Let us go speak to father and see if we can offer our aid. But I might should stay here with mother."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Nay, if Father and Uncle find Lydia in London, they are going to need you because Aunt will be with me. You and I both know Lydia will be in a state. I don't think either man will be equipped to handle her tantrums." Elizabeth felt a little guilty to criticize her youngest sister in such a manner, but what she spoke of was true. If Lydia did not get her way, as the youngest of five daughters, she would resort to cries and fits until she found relief. And as she has currently runaway with a man neither betrothed to her or related by family, Elizabeth reasoned her sister deserved no respect in the present time.

Jane agreed, reluctantly, and the two sisters took the stairs to share their thoughts with the older adults.

To Elizabeth's surprise, it did not take a great deal of convincing from her or her sister Jane for the family to agree to search in two directions. In fact, Elizabeth's aunt had congratulated her niece on thinking of such an elegant solution, though the tone Mrs. Gardiner used made Elizabeth a bit suspicious that perhaps her aunt was not so happy to have her trip back on, with a more frantic pace and without her husband.

As Jane went upstairs to direct their shared maid, Betsy, to begin their packing, Elizabeth was called into her father's study for a private interview.

"What is this really about, Lizzie? I appreciate your eagerness to recover your sister, but is there any other reason you wish to travel?"

"If you are accusing me of a selfish endeavor, Papa, I have none. I do not intend to go sightseeing with aunt in between the inn stops. It just seems to me that if there is a search party going to London, there ought to be one heading to the border. What if Colonel Forster is wrong?" The good Colonel had already left as he needed to go to London and begin the search for his deserter.

"So you do not think Col. Forster is a man to know his own business?" Mr. Bennet took his seat as his daughter still stood before his desk. But Elizabeth shook her head.

"The fact remains that a girl of sixteen years of age managed to slip his notice and run away from his home. He might have interviewed Mr. Wickham's comrades, but Lydia is also very smart. If she has her hooks in Mr. Wickham, I do not suspect that he is going to shake her very easily."

Mr. Bennett laughed in spite of himself at Elizabeth's frank description of his youngest daughter. The stress of the situation weighed heavily upon both of them and the daughter that performed most like a son might in a family dynamic, realized she had her father support and that he was merely checking her logic.

"And what of Jane? I know you convinced her to join in this mess. She should remain here and see to your mother." Mr. Bennet opened his drawer and pulled out parchment and a five pound note.

Elizabeth eyes widened as her father scribbled a few lines and signed his name then folded the letter around the note and handed it to his daughter Elizabeth.

"Papa?"

"That is a line of credit, Lizzie. I do not like the idea of sending you so far away and had planned to give you such before your trip with your aunt and uncle, regardless. But if you find yourself in any kind of trouble, no daughter of mine will be without means of getting herself out of it."

"But Papa, it is too much." But Mr. Bennet shook his head.

"Take it, and tell Jane when you go above stairs to stop her packing, she will stay here."

Elizabeth clutched the letter in her hands that showed her father held so much trust in her. She raised her face to his and jutted out her chin. "Jane must go with you. I know you and uncle will search high and low for Lydia. But there are some places you may search that a lady can gain entry into before a gentleman, such as the dressmakers or a ribbon shop. If Lydia is indeed in London, it will not take very long before she finds her way to old habits. She would think that they stopped there to buy wedding clothes before heading to Scotland."

Mr. Bennett furrowed his brows and listened intently to what Elizabeth said. "How have you thought so much about this? Did Lydia speak to you before she went to Brighton, you did warn me not to let her go."

Elizabeth stomach clenched at the accusation. "I did warn you not to let her go and Lydia never said anything to me about planning to elope with Mr. Wickham. But she did not hide the fact she was going to Brighton to find a husband. I'm afraid Mama did little to persuade her otherwise." Elizabeth did not add that she knew of another young lady Mr. Wickham had once tried to run off with, Mr. Darcy's youngest sister, Georgiana. Elizabeth had thought a great deal about what might befall Lydia on the trip to Brighton thanks to the letter from Mr. Darcy after she rejected his proposal in Kent.

"Oh very well, help Jane pack and finish your own. I know your aunt is eager to get to the first inn before evening. You will be taking Peter, your uncle's manservant instead of one of our own." Mr. Bennet folded his hands underneath his chin as Elizabeth skipped around his desk and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Don't worry, Papa. We will find her. One way or another," Elizabeth said as her father shook his head.

"I'm afraid, my dear, you do not appreciate we are searching for a speck in a haystack."

Elizabeth shrugged and left her father to see about her own packing. She did not scold him for again mixing up his anecdotes as this time she believed he meant what he said.

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This is actually 2 scenes smushed together into 1 to minimize the adjustments I had to make on Fanfiction.


	3. Chapter 3

Same thing this is an altered scene, mostly the same, but Jane's presence is added. If you see any part where I forgot to account for Jane starting in London, please feel free to say so in a review. I will SEE that and fix it :)

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

In London, after nearly a week of searching for Lydia Bennet there was no trace. In fact, it had been Edward Gardiner who had gone out the last two days, as long as he could reasonably stay away from his business. Thomas Bennet, on the other hand, had helped himself to a book and brandy, sparring intermittently with his host about more or less waiting for Lydia to find herself.

"What if she has turned to the streets?" Edward began a fresh assault on his sister's husband for some decency regarding his youngest child.

"The foolish girl turned away from her family the moment she boarded the carriage with that man. I came to London to satisfy Fanny, but even I know when there is nothing to be done."

"But Elizabeth and my wife are searching the road from here to Scotland! The least we could do is search town."

Thomas sipped his drink and considered the frustrated and reddish complexioned man chastising him for inaction. He had already declared his favorite daughter's flight to Scotland with a chaperone a fool's errand, but Mr. Bennet did not wish to insult Gardiner's wife. So he began his own line of questioning.

"You think I should search for my daughter?"

"Yes!" Edward Gardiner bent at his knees in exasperation and looked to the heavens for a divine dose of patience with the impertinent man.

"And you suspect she has been sold, or cast off, and now warms the bed of men who pay the penny?"

Gardiner nodded, feeling relieved that his line of thought finally matched Bennet's slower uptake.

"And you are prepared to run all over London, visiting the houses of ill repute with your wife on holiday, even on this street as it's more likely what that lowlife could afford had they picked lodgings first?"

Mr. Gardiner's mouth opened and closed in a poor imitation of a fish gulping for water to pass through its gills. "I—that is—I had not thought about how it would appear . . ."

"I see." Thomas Bennet returned back to his book. Appearing to be at a stalemate, he licked his thumb and forefinger to turn the page. "My daughter has sullied her name and ruined her family. Do not drag yours down into the muck with mine. Tend your business."

Feeling broken, Mr. Gardiner poured himself a drink and without his favorite chair available due to Bennet's claim, he settled upon the bench running along his bookshelf. He had devoured a good half of the glass before he wondered if his brother Bennet knew even more he was not sharing.

"And what explanation do you plan to give Fanny?" Edward's older sister was prone to high theatrics and taking to her bed at the slightest provocation. He worried what might happen when the truth of her favorite daughter being lost to the capriciousness of the London streets finally made its way to her heart.

Bennet sighed. "Jane and I shall remain here until Elizabeth returns and then say our farewells. You will not be able to send for her or Jane for some time, if ever again."

"And Lydia?"

"A year of quiet living in the country with no mention of her will go a long way to vindicate my family. Perhaps in time, we shall see a way back to the good graces of our friends. If not, then I hold little hope for my remaining daughters and may live to see them regret me forever as their father."

"You mean we cannot shield . . ." Edward gulped more drink as Thomas Bennet shook his head.

"I would not ask you and Madeline to take such a burden. You have your own children to worry about. And worry about them you should, I am learning too late for my own sake."

The pungent scent of regret and helplessness permeated the office as the two men came to an understanding. They would wait for the ladies to return from Scotland, and then endure the aftermath of Lydia's fall in their own ways.

Outside the study, silent tears fell down Jane Bennet's face as she heard the men inside speak so crassly about her sister, her reputation and her future. When it appeared that nothing more would be said, Jane wiped her tears and went above stairs to fetch the maid, Sarah. Her father had said it was likely Lydia and Wickham took lodgings somewhere affordable, and so she would renew the search by asking every inn and boarding house she could find. For good measure, she enlisted the aid of the footman Nat, who was tall and burly, who had enjoyed hearing Miss Bennet's stories when he was but a lad and serving the family.

When Jane knocked on the door of he uncle's study and announced she would be taking a walk in the park for fresh air, her father asked perfunctorily if she was taking a chaperone.

"Yes Father, a maid and a footman, if you do not mind, Uncle?"

Edward Gardiner shook his head and looked at his niece with great pity.

"Enjoy the city as much as you can, child. We will see you at supper."

Jane did not lie, she did begin her search for Lydia with a walk in the nearest park. Then she, Sarah, and Nat began the walk down the lane and started stopping at any place with a sign for lodgings. Jane told herself she would have to come up with better ideas for excursions so she could borrow the carriage, she would not be able to search very far on foot. But it was a start.


	4. Chapter 4

Same thing, altered chapter.  
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The entire trip to Scotland Elizabeth fretted and worried over the pace of the Gardiner carriage heading to the border. She logically understood the horses and children, and even her aunt and herself, needed rest. Yet this understanding did not keep the edge from her voice every moment she barked at her aunt or cousins when she felt them tarrying too long at a stop. That her uncle had the resources to change their team at nearly every other stop satisfied her little. They were moving much too slowly to reach Lydia before she married Mr. Wickham, though by now, there was little to be done but make them marry if they should find them less so.

At last they reached the Three Hammers, an appropriately named place for the blacksmiths that performed many of the ceremonies. As the Gardiner carriage rolled to a stop, Madeline Gardiner gently put a hand on Elizabeth's arm before she might alight from the equipage.

"Remember, we must be discreet. There is little to be gained if anyone knows we are searching for a Lydia Bennet."

"Descriptions only, to be sure, much like the last score of stops." Elizabeth bit her lip and tried not to feel despair. At both of the last two inns, there had been no recollection of a man in uniform and young, lively brunette traveling together. There was a passing resemblance between Elizabeth and Lydia, but none of the innkeepers or stable hands thought of another lady of a similar coloring and look. As loud as Lydia liked to be, it was too much of a long shot to hope her sister had merely remained quiet and demure if the couple had stopped. Truth be told, it was seeming less and less likely Mr. Wickham and Lydia ever left London at all, but Elizabeth refused to admit it.

The common rooms of the Three Hammers belied the unifying purpose of the weary travelers. More than a half dozen young couples filled their bellies and drank their ale, some in clear celebration of their fait accompli, a few looking a touch nervous as the sun began to set. Perhaps they had yet to hear the anvil's clang, pronouncing them man and wife. As Elizabeth approached a table with her aunt's permission, and young Peter not far behind her, she overheard the most distressing situation for a young couple in Gretna Green.

"Tis not my fault the Smith's boy be out on errand! I paid him his gold and tomorrow we shall wed," a young man scolded his female companion who sniffled as she cast her gaze down to her pewter plate of stew.

"Pardon me, have either of you met a soldier and a young woman, looking perhaps similar to me, on your way here?" Elizabeth drew in a deep breath as this interview would be the same as the others.

"We lives here, we do." The indignant young man challenged Elizabeth's assumption that the young couple was anything but proper.

"Please, I am not meaning to offend. My sister Ly- is lost and I am desperate to know if she and her beau have made it safely to Gretna Green." Elizabeth caught herself before saying a name and hastily sought sympathy by confessing her loss. Unfortunately, the young woman who was companion to the lad burst into tears.

"My pa! My brother!" The young woman wailed, but turned to her companion for comfort.

"Best be off with ye, ain't seen no soldiers." The man spat on the floor, dangerously close to Elizabeth's feet. This made Peter step forward closer to his master's niece, but Elizabeth held up a hand. She nodded and continued on, interviewing as many in the inn as she could. But table after table, there was little to learn and time did not live on her side.

Exhausted by her efforts, Elizabeth could not find her stomach in the suite of rooms once she joined her aunt and cousins above stairs for the evening.

"I am truly sorry we did not find her, Lizzie. But perhaps it's not all for naught. Your uncle and father might be enjoying a dinner with your sister and her new husband as we speak."

Elizabeth poked the blobs of gray in the gravy on her plate and rubbed her neck with left hand. She dropped her fork with a clatter.

"I did manage some news. It appears the blacksmiths here charge a small fortune of the desperate couples. Many travel further to Coldstream and Lamberton . . . " Elizabeth's last bit of hope spilled out with the last resort she held to find Lydia.

Madeline Gardiner looked at her children, weary and fussy from such a breakneck pace of travel. "That's another eighty miles!" She shook her head as she mentally calculated the distance.

For her part, Elizabeth wistfully remembered a conversation she once had about fifty miles of good road with Mr. Darcy but did not think her aunt would find such a reference at all helpful. In fact, thinking about Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire felt like a bad omen as Elizabeth began to accept the social pariahs she and her sisters would soon become. If only she had known how incorrectly she had judged that shy man, a man as reticent as her sister Jane! Perhaps she and Mr. Darcy might have married and forced Lydia to remain home for the summer and she would not be so far from home and worn ragged by a fruitless aim.

"I am sorry, my dear, but we will remain here a few day to rest and then return home. If we travel more slowly to the south, perhaps we might enjoy a few sights and hills before we face whatever outcome we must in London." Madeline Gardiner offered Elizabeth a half-smile, and her niece scowled.

As Elizabeth nodded to her aunt, a new plan niggled in the back of her mind. She had some money of her own and perhaps it was the memory of Mr. Darcy or the horrors to come, but she simply could not give up! Just a little further, perhaps to Coldstream and back, and Elizabeth would rejoin her aunt. After all, her father had sent her to London on the post chaise many a time with her sister. Come first light, she would hop the carriage heading further northeast and feel satisfied she had done all that she might to save her family name.

That night, as Elizabeth wrote a note to her aunt with her plan while everyone else slept, the ghost-like memory of her mother's face plagued her thoughts. Each excuse Elizabeth wrote sounded less convincing than the last, but her promise to her mother that she would find Lydia spurred her to push the doubts and fears aside. When at last she was finished, Elizabeth placed the folded note so her aunt would see it come morning, and she tiptoed out of the room to go find Peter in the stables.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: HOLY MACKEREL! Right, so you all love this story. I am humbled by the response, and LOVE, LOVE the "Vegas meets Regency" tagline so many of you have come up with. I have that on my idea page in front of the outline to help influence me to bring a little more of that. The man in bed IS Darcy and we will meet him in Chapter 7. Hang tight, I have about 4,000 unedited raw dictated words behind this piece, I will be cleaning those up and posting more. :) Oh and the person who wondered if that man was the servant, totally using that wonder for a big misunderstanding between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth in Chapter 7, thanks for the inspiration! :)

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West 

Two miles from Canonbrie, Elizabeth Bennet's foolish plan to search alone came to an abrupt end. The axle on the mail post carriage cracked with an enormous boom! The vehicle toppled over casting those in the less-expensive seats outside into the muds of summer and violently jostled the people inside the cabin resulting in a tangled mess of bodies. Elizabeth cried out as she received a sharp elbow to her ribs and a kick to her stomach, but being on the far side of the carriage before it toppled, she was the least injured.

From the screams outside, her adrenaline ramped up in her veins and she used her might, and the hand of a strapping Scotsman from the outside, to climb through the door above her. One by one those who had ridden in the carriage climbed their way out to survey the damage.

"My boy! My boy!" The older woman who had traveled upon the same bench as Lizzie fell to her knees and cried in agony next to a body laid out upon the grass. The boy of about eleven lay peaceful, as if he were merely sleeping, and not one of those unlucky enough to have been crushed beneath the equipage. Sorrow filled Elizabeth's breast as she felt the mother's pain, her feet rooted to the ground as more shouts of men and others swirled around her.

A shot rang out causing the assembled group of travelers in various states of injury to leap at the crack. The driver tucked the gun back into his belt and one of the horses lay still upon the road.

"Poor beast broke a leg," he explained, coming to the group surrounded around the young lad. "Shame the rut got him, too."

"You were traveling much too fast!" one man shouted out, his left arm hanging limply to his side.

"Yes, yes, much too fast!" The crowd began to turn on the driver as they came out of a mental fog from the accident. The driver began backing away, fumbling to reload his pistol.

"Now, listen, listen, I went same as I always do. Go look, the road was half washed away. Wasn't anything I could do!"

Elizabeth's head began to ache as she took in her surroundings. Trunks and luggage still lay strewn across the ground, two parcels split open, but neither were hers. She twirled around holding her palms to her temples in search of Peter, suddenly panicked the young man lay grievously ill or worse as he was not standing near her.

"Peter! Peter?" she called, walking away from the angry mob still fussing at the driver, though the man was not alone any longer. A postillon and another traveler were defending the driver and it appeared frustration merely needed a vent before cooler heads might prevail. Elizabeth walked quickly to the other side of the carriage, seeing for herself the exposed underside completely cracked in two. Down in the field, a stir attracted her attention and Elizabeth dashed down the embankment.

"Peter? Is that you? Are you hurt?"

"I am uninjured," the voice of her aunt's servant put a glimmer of hope into Elizabeth's heart.

"I am coming to help you!" But by the time Elizabeth reached him, the thickset young man had righted himself and stood in a crop of wheat up to his knees.

"However did you get all the way here?"

Peter allowed the niece of his master to offer him a hand back up to the road where the passengers who were not mourning in wails, nor wailing in pain, had begun the process of continuing their journey. A small procession of them walked with their belongings down the road.

"When the carriage took the turn and hit the rut, I heard the crack and leapt off." Peter limped and winced in pain as he had injured his ankle with his fall.

"Well, blessings be that you are only minorly injured." Elizabeth found her trunk and squinted her eyes down the road to the people already on their way. Turning back to Peter, she lowered her voice. "The boy atop did not survive."

Peter looked down at the road in shame, but hoisted up Elizabeth's trunk onto his shoulder. They made a dozen steps before he put it down once more, clearly in too much pain to walk with both.

"Wait here." Elizabeth marched over to the driver and tried to negotiate for one of the horses, but it was in vain. The driver had no interest in handing over one of his horses to a woman traveling without companion and gave a clear indication he suspected Elizabeth to steal the horse rather than ride it to the inn. Angry, Elizabeth picked up an end of her trunk and began to drag it, cursing the pompous driver with each step.

"Miss Bennet, you must not. I shall carry the trunk." Peter remained faithful to his job, knowing her uncle would not be happy to hear that Peter made his niece carry her own trunk after a carriage accident.

"You . . . can . . . scarcely . . . walk." Elizabeth grunted, seeing the people ahead of them becoming smaller and smaller as the road held hills and a few disappeared over the crest.

"But I-"

Elizabeth paused and looked behind her as with his injury Peter walked slower than she did, dragging the trunk.

"The inn is two miles that way. I shall manage my trunk if you manage your feet. If you cannot make it, I do not believe I can even drag you to safety, so step lightly and mind the ruts." Elizabeth Bennet grit her teeth and dug back into her task. Two miles of good road never much worried her, but in a strange land with a lame servant, she suddenly felt very exposed. The sun had not yet reached its zenith in the sky, so even with her burdens they should reach the inn before dark. But only if young Peter suffered a sprain, and not a break.

AN: I know short, but I wanted to give you all more as quickly as I could. I also read the many reviews of people who love my books, but do not have them. Listen, I love and yes, my published works do help support my family. But I am always 100% willing to give anyone and everyone my stories for free. If you want to read, you can have them! I used to try to do that through the PM system here, but that's hard. So if you have Facebook, I have a new closed group called **The JaneSide**. It let's me make the files available to anyone who wants them, and we can chitchat about the stories. No pressure to join, nothing like that, it's open to all readers. Chapters will STILL post here, so if you just want to follow along, that's okay too.

I cannot tell you how much your support has meant. It's because of all of you I am working hard to have at least 10,000 words on this story by the weekend done. Keep up this support, and this might be the fastest novel I ever write! :)

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	6. Chapter 6

*** Part of the problem of posting in progress is sometimes you skip a scene and have to go back and adjust. Sorry for that, but I needed to get Jane to London. :) So this chapter used to have more, but that has now been spread to the following chapters . . .*****

Elizabeth and the injured servant made limited progress towards the village of Canonbie, but after roughly one mile of their strained procession, they came to a small bridge over a stream.

"Let us rest here a moment." Elizabeth huffed and released her trunk, gaining her breath before stepping upon the luggage. Now standing a head taller than Peter, she scanned the horizon before them with her eyes shaded by her palm and a keen squint. The road curved steeply downhill, a welcome terrain to her aching arms, and in the valley below them the rooftops of the village lay nestled just out of reach.

"Thank you, Miss." Peter hobbled over to the water and greedily cupped his hands to bring the refreshment his mouth. Elizabeth clucked in sympathy at the poor young servant, estimating him to be in a great deal of pain, yet not the complainer. As gracefully as she might without assistance, Elizabeth lowered herself and caught the edges of her trunk as a great spell of dizziness threatened her balance. Blinking her eyes, and taking a few deep breaths, she felt steady once more and cautiously stepped off the trunk.

After fussing with the lock, Elizabeth opened her trunk and rummaged around for an older shift. Her cheeks burned red at the embarrassment of opening her clothing trunk on the side of the road, but Elizabeth reminded herself this was indeed an emergency, though mostly one of her own making. She reasoned there was nothing wrong with trying to restore one's appearance before rejoining civilization. Peter suffered many nicks and scratches from his neck up to his cheeks and Elizabeth grumbled as she ripped off two healthy swatches of fabric from the bottom hem. She feared looking into the water's reflection to spy her skin's damage from the accident.

Elizabeth offered a strip of cloth to Peter and pointed at his face and neck to indicate he wash off the dust of the road from his cuts and scrapes. Feeling guilty, Elizabeth apologized.

"This is all my fault. I am so sorry my stubbornness has led us to this precarious situation."

The cool water of the babbling brook offered much relief to the injured servant. Peter looked up at Miss Elizabeth with a toothy grin. "A bit of trouble keeps us on our toes is what my Pa would say. We'll make it to the village and find a way back to Gretna Green. There's been no lasting harm, so I'm sure my mistress will forgive us."

Witnessing the cool cloth improve Peter's spirits inspired Elizabeth to do the same. She thanked Providence no visual mark existed from her ordeal. She sighed as the coolness rubbed along the back of her hairline provided immense relief and she held the compress there for a moment before pulling it back to submerge it once more. However, the pristine white revealed to be marred by a tinge of red. Her hand begin to shake and she turned it over to see even a larger amount of blood across the back of her hand.

"Peter?" her voice cracked calling his name. The young servant scrambled in an ungainly crawl to see what Miss Elizabeth needed. "Look?" Elizabeth held up the bloodied cloth with her eyes as large as saucers.

Gently, Peter turned Elizabeth's head to the side and inspected the back where she indicated with her hand. Just along her hairline, behind her left ear was a nasty gash and accompanying bump. But the blood had clotted into a hard crust.

"You have a right nasty gash, Miss. But it be healed up. The water just now cleaned away some dried bits but to my eye there be no fresh blood." Peter stood up and left his hand down as an offer to help her up.

"Thank you." Elizabeth accepted his hand and took a deep breath to stymie her rising panic. "I believe we should reach the inn as soon as we might if you're still up to walking? I know your ankle must hurt –" Elizabeth paused when Peter shook his head but she frowned at his response. "You have winced and limped, you cannot fool me." Peter shrugged his shoulders. A pack of horses passed them ridden by the driver and postillon. Their passing renewed the anger in Elizabeth's belly at the caddish behavior of the driver to deny her and her servant a horse.

Picking up the handle of her trunk once more, Elizabeth initiated their trek down towards the village below. The sun had crossed the mid-point in the sky and Elizabeth's stomach rumbled in a reinforcement of how long it had been since last she ate. Hunger pangs appeared to affect Peter as well for despite their injuries, the two wayward travelers quickened their pace. Within the hour, they arrived at The Gray Sheep much worse for the wear, but faster than they had taken the first mile from the accident.

******  
The Janeside on Facebook is my free group for readers to get review copies of books before they publish etc. It's also the hub of where I communicate what's going on. Hope to see you there! ****


	7. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you to all of the readers who have joined TheJaneside on Facebook! Your feedback there and cheery dispositions have kept me writing! If anyone else would like to join us, the invitation still stands! BTW this was Chapter 7 before, I had to move things to make room for Jane's storyline.

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

Inside the Canonbie inn, air choked with the smells of too many bodies and insufficient room for any. Elizabeth's ears rang from the cacophony of children's cries, the higher pitched voices of many ladies in distress, and the low baritones of men yelling. Most of the carriage accident victims had already reached Canonbie by the time Elizabeth and Peter arrived, still, Elizabeth elbowed her way to the front counter to speak to the innkeeper.

"I should like to rent a room, please."

"Look around you, lass, I don't be having any rooms left." The great red-bearded innkeeper patted his protruding belly as he laughed at Elizabeth's naivete.

"Sir, please. I have been injured, as well as my servant, when the mail carriage crashed and we are in most desperate need of a place to rest."

The innkeeper gave a wary eye to young Peter with the trunk, and the young woman before him, and frowned. He saw plenty of their sort come through to take care of their business and then hurry home to their mother and father for deserved reward. "It's like I said, there are many others who were just as injured or more. They arrived here first. I do not have any rooms left." The innkeeper crossed his arms over his massive chest.

Elizabeth was about to argue further and ask if the innkeeper had another solution available when she was abruptly brushed aside by a tall gentleman in a blue overcoat.

"I require my change of horses."

The voice Elizabeth heard sent shivers down her spine. "Mr. Darcy?" she said quietly and looked up at the man to her left.

Upon hearing his name, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire turned halfway around and looked down. His face paled as if he had seen a ghost.

Elizabeth furrowed her brows noticing how gaunt his cheeks had become and his handsome brown eyes nothing more than bloodshot orbs skittering around for more information.

"It cannot be." Darcy blinked and wiped his eyes. "How would you – this is?" Fitzwilliam turned around to take stock of the very crowded inn looking for anyone he recognized that might be traveling with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Spying none, he reacted to her small tug on the sleeve of his coat for his attentions.

"I am traveling alone, sir, with my uncle's servant here." Elizabeth pointed at Peter who nodded to signal he was the man she referred to in her speech.

Darcy spotted a trickle of dried blood as Elizabeth turned her head away in shame, distracting him from asking a more rational question as to why Elizabeth traveled in Scotland with her uncle's servant. Though, to even hear the question in his head, too large of a portion of Fitzwilliam Darcy dreaded the answer.

"You are hurt. Come," Darcy began to escort Elizabeth to a small empty table he could see in the far corner. "MacFigan! A word!" Darcy bellowed as the crowd seemed to part like the Red Sea for them to make it to their table. No sooner had they taken a seat than the innkeeper hustled over to the table, offering Mr. Darcy great deference.

"There appears, that is, there was a misunderstanding in the stables, sir. The team of horses reserved for your use was mistakenly let out to another traveler after the accident."

"Then I suggest you find another team of horses for my purposes. Feed and wet down the team I came with and if you fail, then I shall use them for the last fifteen miles to Broadmeadow." Ordinarily, Darcy would brook no failure of this sort from an inn he owned, but the delay afforded him time with Miss Elizabeth, and for that he privately became thankful for the mistake.

"Yes, sir, I shall see them well taken care of." The innkeeper began to shuffle away when Darcy motioned for him again.

"And bring us two bottles of wine." Darcy looked at Elizabeth as the woman flushed before him. "And two plates of stew with a trench."

The innkeeper hesitated again, grimacing. "Afraid we're out of wine, you see, much like the rooms. But Betsy made a second kettle of stew and I can bring you whisky."

Darcy nodded and the innkeeper left to see to the execution of the many instructions given to him by his employer.

"I appreciate your assistance, Mr. Darcy. But I would have been able to order for myself, you see. Peter needs to eat as well." Elizabeth motioned towards the servant now sitting on her trunk and guarding it most carefully.

Darcy's lips twisted in annoyance. "Yes, Peter. When MacFigan returns I'll tell him to throw some scraps at the boy."

Elizabeth pursed her lips at the tone of voice Mr. Darcy used. She remembered the gallant gentleman that she had horrifically misjudged and regretted the day she spurned his proposal at his aunt's estate in the springtime. In fact, it was those memories of Mr. Darcy, coupled with Elizabeth's hopes for her sister Jane, that had convinced her finding Lydia was the key to everyone's happiness. But as she sat on the hard wooden bench in a foreign county with the same proud, and rude, Mr. Darcy she experienced first in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth suddenly felt the full weight of her foolishness. She scowled as she began to cry.

"What? You should like that I invite him to sit and dine at our table?" Mr. Darcy understood the boy to be special to Elizabeth, but he could not bring himself to break bread with a servant.

"No, of course not! He may eat in the kitchens or stable, but he must eat as well. I am afraid this is all my fault. . . "

Elizabeth was about to explain when an argument near them spilled into a crash upon their table. Without a moment's hesitation, Darcy sprung into action grasping the tussling men by the shoulders and heaving them in the opposite direction. He flanked Elizabeth with his backside and began yelling, which caused the two men fighting to cease almost immediately.

Elizabeth shook with fright as her mind refused to process any further information regarding the day. There had simply been too much. Before she could use her coat sleeve to wipe the unmentionables her crying produced, a calmer Mr. Darcy handed her a handkerchief. She accepted it without a word as he took his seat once more.

"Your father does not approve of this?" Mr. Darcy asked as casually as he could muster.

"My father? He is probably not yet aware. I left my aunt with a note this morning and convinced Peter to go with me as far as Coldstream."

"Coldstream? But that is at least a two day journey from . . . where were you coming from again?" Darcy knew Elizabeth Bennet to be an intelligent woman. If she was running away to marry a servant, a situation his rational mind found highly unlikely but his jealous heart suspected nonetheless, they needed not travel any further.

"Gretna Green." Elizabeth winced as she suddenly realized how it must look to everyone around for her to travel alone, with a servant near to her age. Why, she had not only made a dangerous decision, but made herself an utter laughingstock!

MacFigan arrived with the repast and apologized again to Mr. Darcy that he did not have a spare room. Darcy inquired about the innkeeper's quarters and the man explained another family had already paid for the privilege of the room and that he and his wife were going to sleep in the loft for the extra coinage. Ever a shrewd businessman, Mr. Darcy understood the tough position of his manager. It was only that very morning that a rider was sent ahead to arrange his personal horse train.

"Peace, I am sure this will do quite nicely and in an hour or two, my horses will be well enough for the last leg of our journey." The innkeeper raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he glared at the woman with his employer with a weary eye. Her dress and situation offered little to recommend her, but Seamus MacFigan knew when to keep his gob shut.

Elizabeth cast her eyes down to her stew and waited for the innkeeper to leave.

"You and Peter were in that carriage I saw toppled a few miles out of town? How badly are you hurt? My estate is another fifteen miles away, but the doctor here is a good man. I am sure I could take you to his home—"

"Thank you again, but no." Elizabeth's stomach protested as the smell of the venison and root vegetables reached her nose and her mouth watered. "I really should take the next carriage heading back to Gretna Green."

"The mail post? There is not another until morning. The heavy winds and rain fell two trees to the north and this carriage you were in was to do a loop in Langholm until the morrow."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "You possess a great deal on intelligence about this place and many appear to know you well. How do you know about the trees and the post?"

Darcy laughed and dug into his stew, urging Elizabeth to do the same by nudging her spoon towards her. "My grandmother's surname was Elliot before it was Darcy. Her brother's family died, sadly, in a fire, and the estate passed to my father being he was the only living male relative." Darcy waited for Elizabeth to actually take a bite of her stew. While waiting, he poured a glass of whisky for each of them.

The stew was piping hot and Elizabeth nearly dribbled her bite before managing to save herself further embarrassment. She thought she spotted a twinkle in Mr. Darcy's eye at her near flub, but she could not be certain. "I am familiar with distant cousins inheriting."

"Yes, well, thankfully, my father and I spent many a summer here to win over the local townsfolk despite being Elliots by a maternal line. Blood is blood though . . ." Darcy trailed off as his eyes flickered to Elizabeth's left ear. He remembered now seeing signs of her injury and wished to ask more.

Anticipating the next line of questioning, Elizabeth attempted to stymie any inquiry by taking a deep gulp of the whisky.

"No, you mustn't!" Darcy tried to say, but it was too late.

The amber liquid burned her throat and produced a nauseating smoky flavor to fill her mouth. She sputtered and coughed and winced, wondering why on earth anyone would drink such a vile spirit.

"I should have asked for tea. I am so used to traveling with Richard I did not think—"

"I take the title of scatterbrained for the day, I believe." Elizabeth whispered, not quite finding her voice after nearly choking on her drink. A warmness began to spread down her chest as the whisky found its way to her core and the drink's odd power of calming initiated its effects.

"Yes, you did not fully explain to me why you were even travelling. If your aim is not to . . . that is, what brought you to Scotland, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth braved another taste of whisky, finding the effects of the drink worth the initial burn, but only a sip this time. She licked her lips and considered Fitzwilliam Darcy in the crowded, rough roadside inn and wondered if she would ever enjoy his company again once she confessed all? Still, despite hoping he might provide her aid, she would not lie to him knowing her options for safety were limited if he abandoned her at this moment.

"Prepare yourself for something very dreadful, I'm afraid."

Darcy put down his spoon and cradled his chin upon his interlaced fingers, daring Miss Elizabeth to give her worst, much as he had in Kent. The man actually smiled a half-smile, and this time, Elizabeth was certain she saw the twinkle in his eye.

"My sister Lydia has run off with Mr. Wickham."


	8. Chapter 9

**** Really updating all of this, sorry about that, the new material is Chapter 7 with Jane Bennet leaving Longbourn, rest is me making Fanfiction match my scene list in Scrivener :) ***** 

The din of the common room of The Gray Sheep continued unabated despite Elizabeth Bennet's explosive confession. Anger. Disgust. Surprise? All were emotions Elizabeth hoped to see cross Fitzwilliam's face, but the man remained stoic and hard as cut marble. Feeling ashamed, Elizabeth continued to sip her whisky and alternated bitefuls of the chunky venison stew with as much grace as she could muster.

Over time, the silence between them grew to be too much of a discomfort for Elizabeth and she elected to change the subject entirely.

"I am most appreciative of your care, Mr. Darcy, but after this meal I believe I shall ask one of the families if they might allow me to sleep on the floor of their room for the night." The utter defeat of situation cast Elizabeth's passions into despair. But she could not think of another solution. To beg Mr. Darcy for further assistance mortified her beyond reason, and she looked around for a family with a number of young children as a suitable candidate.

Her announcement snapped Fitzwilliam out of his stupor and the man refocused his eyes upon her.

"You would sleep with strangers rather than return to my estate? I can assure your perfect safety in my care if that is what you fear."

"Fear you? Never, sir, but I could not ask you to take on such a burden when so much has passed between us. . . and besides . . . you have not formally offered." Elizabeth blew out a breath as her cheeks felt too warm. She lifted the back of her hands to cool her skin, but even her hands which were normally chilled without gloves refused to perform as they ordinarily would. Her only success placed warm skin against uncomfortably warm skin, a failure her mind struggled to reconcile without a giggle.

Darcy raised his eyebrow. "I believe that is enough whisky for you, madam." He reached to take the glass away from her, but Elizabeth's hands moved from her face to stymie his effort. Her hand collided with his and the glass slid away, precariously close to the edge of the table, but it did not fall. If Elizabeth's hands had been warm earlier, touching Mr. Darcy's lit them positively on fire and without knowing what she was about, she smiled at the man.

"You have been so kind. So very kind, always. And I am forever ruining it." She locked eyes with him, feeling as if she had finally seen the man for the first time. He was sensitive, just as Jane had warned. Gently, she removed her hand, wishing she might allow it to linger longer, but it was too painful to do so knowing there could never be more between them. Not with Lydia gone and the identity of the man she ran away with.

Darcy cleared his throat, bringing the glass closer to Elizabeth and pouring them both a touch more liquid courage.

"I should like to offer the shelter of my home to you and your uncle's servant. If our past dealings bring hesitation, please know I would offer my lodgings to any lady of my acquaintance in such duress." He took a sip and waited for Elizabeth to join him. He rather enjoyed the unreserved Miss Elizabeth Bennet in his presence. "I understand you take the blame for leaving your relations in Gretna Green, but your intentions must be taken into account. If you shall allow, I can promise a night of peaceful rest at Broadmeadow and in the morning, escort you and young Peter to your aunt."

Elizabeth's heart fluttered more than it ought at the simple, friendly invitation. As grateful as she was for the man's hospitality, she still worried about the subject matter that she knew he could never forgive.

"But my sister. I should not blame you for cutting all ties with me and my family. Especially after . . ." a lump formed in Elizabeth's throat and she reached for her glass. This time she did not take a sip, but a gulp, and the burning sensation hardly registered.

"Yes, it is an unfortunate business . . " Darcy shifted his weight in his seat across from Elizabeth. "If it is not too taxing for you to endure my presence-"

Elizabeth snorted and began to laugh.

"Pardon me, madam. I did not know I had made a jest."

"Mr. Darcy, you are too generous to trifle with me. My behavior in April abused you so abominimbally . . . abominabolly . . ." Elizabeth crossed her eyes at her mouth's inability to properly pronounce a word she had said many times. Realizing it was a lost cause, she changed tacks. "After reading your letter, I realized how very wrong I was about our previous interactions . . ."

Darcy stifled a laugh as he finished his own glass of whisky, relaxing the tension in his shoulders. He had not had so much to drink outside of his normal limits to affect his behavior, and the effects on Elizabeth were highly amusing to say the least. He was about to speak, when she continued her rant.

"Why did you call me ugly, sir?"

"I beg your pardon!"

"You know of what I speak. Not handsome enough, I heard it plainly the first night you ever met me. And now, I must look an absolute fright," she glanced down at her dirty frock, with rips and tears, that she had not considered before entering the inn and finding an acquaintance. "And you gaze at me like I am . . . like I am . . ." Elizabeth trailed off, her head tilting to one side. Her tongue darted out to moisten her parched lips and Darcy held his breath.

Blinking profusely, Darcy spun his torso a quarter turn on his bench to raise a hand to MacFigan. _Surely the horses had to be ready by now_ , he thought.

As Elizabeth fumbled for the bottle of whisky to pour herself more, Darcy swiftly pulled it out of her reach.

"Truly, that is enough whisky for you and I shall not be moved otherwise." Darcy shook his head in disbelief as the woman pouted before trying to remember her manners, though she was much too drunk to behave properly.

"But I am thirsty."

"I shall order you some tea."

"And when we reach your estate I can rest?" Yawning, Elizabeth leaned her head against the wall and slumped forward slightly, giving Darcy a clearer view of her injury. Spying the horrific bulge blows to the head were known to create, he clenched his fists under the table. As Elizabeth's eyes fluttered closed, he allowed her the brief rest until an hour later, his team of horses were ready for another leg of the journey. He would not drive them hard, and it would take longer to reach Broadmeadow than usual, but he would at least get Elizabeth to safety before nightfall.

And though he did not comfortably speak in a crowded inn, Darcy resolved himself to speak to her in the morning to disabuse her of the notion of guilt. Only one person stood responsible for the mess, the same person it always was since he was a mere lad. George Richard Wickham.

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Bear with me as I update these chapters . . . new material is coming too!


	9. Chapter 10

**** THIS IS NOT A NEW CHAPTER! I had to move chapters around to make room for a scene I forgot to write which is now Chapter 7. There IS new chapters coming later today. :) The whole story is now storyboarded in Scrivener, so there shouldn't be another situation like this. Sorry! Learned my lesson though, this writer NEEDS her notecard security blanket Scrivener supplies.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West  
***************************

Mr. Darcy stoically stood at the window in his study. Staring out at the full moon above illuminating the lands of Broadmeadow, a tightness in his chest gave the great man pause. He disliked waiting word from his trusted staff as to Miss Elizabeth's condition.

The few hours' drive from the Grey Sheep Inn to his estate were uneventful. So much so, both he and Peter could never fully rouse Elizabeth as they helped her into the carriage nor during the ride. A click of the door behind him sent tension to his shoulders, but Darcy did not turn around. Instead his eyes flicked to the reflection of his housekeeper, Mrs. Aldridge, allowing herself entrance into his study.

"This be a very different kettle of fish, sir. She is resting, but for the life of me, I cannot be sure what you were thinking in bringing her here without proper escort." Mrs. Aldridge remained respectful in her tone, but the content of her words nipped at Darcy's soul.

"This was not my best laid plan. I could not leave her behind at the inn and there was no room." Darcy turned around as Mrs. Aldridge raised an eyebrow. "With the poor weather we've been having, the state of the roads is an utter disaster." Needing employment, he walked to his sideboard. "More than just the post carriage has been stranded from the poor road conditions." Darcy's hands shook as he reached out to pour himself a drink, making him think better of the idea.

"Let me have a maid bring you a tea tray, sir. You must have much to do this evening with your plans not going as you expected." At nearly threescore in age, Miriam Aldridge remembered Broadmeadow as a child being under the care of the Elliotts. Housekeeper under Mr. Darcy's father, she watched the current master grow from a young lad into the great man he was today.

But she had never seen the master so rattled. Her correspondence from Mrs. Martin in London had prepared her for a poor condition since his annual spring visit to Rosings. The staff of the Darcy family were above reproach where it came to gossip, but the three housekeepers maintained regular correspondence so as to best serve the family. And with no parents to guide either Mr. Darcy or the young Miss Darcy, the three elderly women in Mr. Darcy's employ justified their informative missives as a means to spare their young master and mistress from further suffering.

"Thank you, a tray would be most appreciated." Darcy ruffled his hands through his hair and stalked his way to his desk, circling the furniture as if it was the beast of some sort. Resigning himself to the unwelcome task of letter writing, he first decided to pen a letter to his solicitor. With Miss Elizabeth above stairs residing in his home, there were certain matters that needed attention, though Darcy almost dared not to hope. He had never intended to win Miss Elizabeth's hand through compromise, but the particulars of their situation dictated he at least be prepared for all outcomes, even if Miss Elizabeth were reluctant to do so.

Next, Darcy hesitated to begin his second letter. He vacillated between giving into his anger and writing Richard about searching for Wickham in London or writing a rather uncomfortable letter to Elizabeth's father, Mr. Bennet. During Elizabeth's slumber, Darcy had managed to interview the young servant, Peter, who he asked to ride inside the carriage as a poor substitute for chaperone. At first, Peter had served his master well and refused to give any information. But as Darcy pointed out the grave condition of Miss Elizabeth, eventually the young footman spilled as much as he knew, which was not very much at all, but more than enough for Mr. Darcy's purposes.

Realizing he had not a single clear idea on what to write Mr. Bennet, he scowled and wrote to his cousin Richard, a Colonel in His Majesty's Army. It was unfortunate to place such a burden on Richard's shoulders when he had just taken a period of leave for their trip to Kent. But Darcy could not avoid it. At the very least, it would be a number of days before he could reach London with Miss Elizabeth, but a rider might reach there within half that time.

Darcy outlined a description of Lydia Bennet from his best recollection and recommended that Richard check with the former companion they had appointed to his sister, Georgiana, for her Ramsgate trip. Mrs. Younge was unlikely to welcome a visit by either Richard or Darcy, as she had aided Wickham in nearly absconding with Darcy's sister just last summer. But he suspected a few coins might loosen her tongue. For good measure, Darcy included a letter of drafting privileges on his personal account with the bank for Richard's use.

The study door opened once more and Mrs. Aldridge herself carried in the tray. Darcy moved a number of letters and correspondence from the corner of his desk so that the older servant need not walk very far to unload her burden.

"The Cook added a basket of your favorite shortbread, sir." Mrs. Aldridge lifted a pot of jam as well without mentioning it as it was one of the few peculiarities of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Since he was a boy he had always enjoyed a touch of strawberry jam on his shortbread, but it was not a treat he would allow himself in civilized company.

Darcy leaned back in his chair and cracked his bones down his spine with a wince. Looking at the pages of parchment in front of him scribbled most thoroughly with his own words, he had not realized how much work he had done in the half hour it had taken for his tea to arrive. "I wonder if I might trouble you, Mrs. Aldridge, for a very difficult letter I must write." Darcy helped himself to some tea and a smear of jam on a shortbread biscuit.

Mrs. Aldridge wrung her hands on her apron and responded that she would help her master any way that he needed.

"How would you address a letter to a man to explain you have not kidnapped his daughter, but hold her in your house, and that you plan to marry her, if she would be so willing as to accept your addresses?" Darcy laughed, in spite of himself, to enumerate the ridiculousness of his situation with Miss Elizabeth.

Mrs. Aldridge's eyes widened in a perfect impersonation of an owl. "The miss? You mean to say, you are to be married?" Mrs. Aldridge clapped her hands and cheered at the master's good fortune. But Darcy held his hand up.

"Do not become too hasty, you must know there is a history between me and Miss Bennet. I asked for her hand in marriage when I was visiting my aunt in Kent and to my greatest chagrin, the woman refused me. She held good reason–"

"I cannot rightly believe that, sir." Mrs. Aldridge bristled at the idea of a young lady having cause to reject her master, not even realizing she had interrupted him.

"Indeed, I can assure you she did. But I have made great pains to change in the few short weeks since our interview but I'm afraid now actions beyond either of our control have likely pushed Miss Elizabeth into the unwelcome eventuality of becoming my bride." A sour taste of bile burned the back of Darcy's throat as he considered a future of wedding Miss Elizabeth, a woman he loved and admired above all others, yet she would never return his affections in kind.

Mrs. Aldridge frowned and opened her mouth and closed it a number of times before she finally spoke. "I cannot pretend to understand the whims of the lady that might turn down a perfectly good proposal, but I can say there is one thing all lasses share."

"And what is this commonality?"

Mrs. Aldridge offered Mr. Darcy a toothy grin. "Never be a bonny lass that don't enjoy a Lad's proper attentions and compliments. If the lady has refused you, for cause as you have said, then there can be no obstacle if you have changed. You shall just have to show her."

Next chapter same thing . . . it's the wood cutting scene. BTW, your notes and feedback in reviews IS getting worked into the final version of this story. Join TheJaneSide on Facebook if you want a free review copy when we are all done! :) Preorders for the book will probably go up November 1. but don't hold me to that. :)

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	10. Chapter 11

** Same thing not a new chapter, but NEXT chapter will be new material. Hang in there. And remember, Chapter 7 is now new, if you want to read about Longbourn...***

A monstrous headache greeted Elizabeth Bennet as she opened her eyes and silently cursed the pain ripping through her head. Blinking, she began to panic as she did not recognize any of the furnishings around her, nor could she recollect even what day had dawned. She flung the covers off of her body and swung her legs over the side to escape the bed, but her wobbly knees betrayed her. Losing her balance, Elizabeth found herself on all fours to break her fall and a strange voice calling to her through her mental fog.

"Miss Bennet, Ms. Bennet! Oh please tell me you have not injured yourself." Elizabeth looked up into the concerned worry of an unfamiliar maid.

"Where am I?" Elizabeth asked hoarsely, scarcely above a whisper.

"You are at Broadmeadow, ma'am. Just south of Langholm in Scotland."

"Broadmeadow?" Elizabeth rocked herself back to kneeling, and grabbed the bottom rail of the bed to steady herself as merely sitting upright invoked too much dizziness for her tastes. "I am not familiar with a Broadmeadow. Where is Broadmeadow?"

"In Scotland, ma'am. The master, he brought you and your servant last night, but we could not rouse you. We were instructed to allow you to rest." The maid offered her hands to help Elizabeth up and back into the bed, but Elizabeth was not compliant. She accepted the maid's assistance to stand up, then willed her legs to walk her forward to take in the grand room that were her accommodations. Elizabeth heart rate continued to climb as she wracked her brain for some memory of how she came to be at this foreign estate and could find none.

"What is the name of the servant who came with me?" Elizabeth hoped her question did not appear too silly, but she could not bring herself to outright asked who owned Broadmeadow estate. Perhaps if she had some small piece of information her memory would oblige her with an indication of what had happened.

"Why, Peter, Miss. He rode with you and Mr. Darcy in the carriage from the Inn in Canonbrie." If the maid began to find her charge's behavior quite odd, she did not say so. Still, the young woman jittered and held her hands out as Elizabeth began to trust her own strength to move about.

"Mr. Darcy! Of course, of course, how could I have lost my bearings?" Elizabeth laughed hollowly as inwardly she felt enormous dread over the identity of who had saved her from whatever calamity robbed her of her memories.

Gingerly, Elizabeth became to step with her own steam to the chair by the fire. She wrapped her robe around her, thankful that the cloth was at least one source of familiarity as she continued to will herself to remember more about her current situation. Finding herself beyond distraction as the name Peter only reminded her of a servant in her aunt and uncles household, Elizabeth tried to remember as far back as she could and suddenly the journey to Gretna Green with her aunt Gardiner flooded her mind. She recalled searching inn after inn for signs of her sister Lydia to no avail but the leap to being a guest in Mr. Darcy's Scottish estate proved elusive. Meanwhile, the cheery maid chattered on and on about Mr. Darcy this and Mr. Darcy that and Elizabeth began to at least hear the details of how she came to arrive at Broadmeadow, even if she could not retrieve the information as to why.

"Forgive me, I was very tired last evening from my travels, but what was your name again?"

"My name is Fiona, Fiona Grace, if it pleases you, ma'am" The maid dipped into a perfunctory curtsy.

"Fiona. I believe I like that very much." Elizabeth offered the maid a genuine smile as so far she was her only ally in the mess of confusion. Shouts from outside her window attracted Elizabeth's notice and she rose from her chair to walk over to gaze out the pane of glass. Gently, she tucked the curtain aside so as to remove obstruction from her view and was rewarded with the most intriguing sight.

Down below, a group of men in laborers' clothing, chopped wood with great expediency. But one man dressed not in the plain cotton threads of his fellows, but a lawn shirt and breeches. No cravat or top hat or other gentlemen trappings, Fitzwilliam Darcy laughed and cajoled with the groundsman as he lifted his own axe and swung it down to split a stump most decidedly in half. Elizabeth gasped to spy the ever proper Mr. Darcy not only in a casual setting and attire, but found herself mesmerized by the alluring display of manhood so deliciously staged just below her rooms.

The maid Fiona came over to her lady's side and looked over Elizabeth's shoulder at the vista below.

"Does Mr. Darcy so very often chop his own wood?" Elizabeth tried to ask the question without conveying any censure of the gentlemen's behavior. She truly was amused and intrigued by such a different side to the man she had met in Hertfordshire and again in Kent.

"Oh no, Miss. But whenever he comes to Broadmeadow to see to the estate, I hear the lads say he is never averse to rolling up his own sleeves. I believe he chops wood with Young Hamish MacGuffin down there for the enjoyment."

Elizabeth followed the maids finger-pointing at the younger servant who cleared the wood from Mr. Darcy chopped pile and carried it over to the main wagon they were loading. A large bandage could be seen just below the groundsman's hairline and Elizabeth gasped.

"But he is injured!" she exclaimed as Fiona chuckled.

"Aye, an injury he deserves, too, if you don't mind me saying, Miss." Fiona backed away from the window and though reluctant, Elizabeth did the same. But not before spying a footmen deliver a note on a silver tray to Mr. Darcy, thus delaying any further displays of masculine strength for the moment.

"However did he hurt himself?" Elizabeth wondered as Fiona poured fresh water into the basin so that Elizabeth might clean her face and hands before dressing.

"He and young Robin nicked a bushel of apples to aggravate the Cook. But Mrs. Nolan would have none of it and her broom caught his legs as he turned around and fell backwards. The stone steps broke his fall, but he won't be playing any pranks on Mrs. Nolan for a good spell, I reckon."

Elizabeth laughed at the very idea of two young woodcutters trying to steal a bunch of apples from the kitchens and getting caught.

"Will he face punishment for his behavior?"

"Not likely, as even the Cook had a good laugh and felt the boy had punishment enough with the knock to the head."

Fiona's words reminded Elizabeth of another piece of information from the last few days and tentatively her hands lifted to just behind her left ear where she could feel the bump and abrasion. She suddenly remembered now that she had hurt her own head but still, she could not recall how. Thankfully, Fiona watched her miss and clucked her tongue in sympathy.

"Carriage accidents be a nasty business, ma'am. But don't worry, I shall do your hair in such a way to loop some curls and hide the mark."

Elizabeth mumbled her thanks as Fiona left to pull a gown for her lady.

Elizabeth wanted to return to the window and watch Mr. Darcy some more, but she dared not. She had been in a carriage accident and Mr. Darcy had rescued her. She would have to forgive the man any of his other trespasses. Especially now that Lydia was lost to the dastardly Wickham.

Feeling so utterly overwhelmed by the enormity of her ordeal, Elizabeth's spirits could not even rise when Fiona managed to select her favorite gown from her trunks. Dutifully, Elizabeth wore the red spotted frock and allowed the maid to do her hair so that she might go below stairs and address her many shortcomings directly with the gentleman woodcutter himself.

****

Okay, I am at my local Barnesandnoble today writing away on the 4,000 words I have dictated. We got more Darcy and Lizzie coming up (I misspell her name on purpose) and our hero the Colonel is going to do a little swooping in and I am going to *try* to get all the way them married today . . .

GO GO PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE! :) TEEHEE

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

*****


	11. Chapter 12

** I recorded this chapter last week, where did the time go? Running it through a quick edit my heart aches for them! But don't worry . . . remember happy ending for ALL! Guaranteed.

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

***

The grand dining hall at Broadmeadow existed primarily to accommodate an enormous hunting party in days past. The walls boasted intricate wood carvings of forest animals and nymphs and a pleasing pale green ceiling with a dozen chandeliers hanging from chains. Large windows along the far wall allowed a surfeit of sunlight to pour into the room. As Mr. Darcy rarely entertained the local gentry in sport, the expansive room offered a loud echo and still carried a much more masculine decor then the dining rooms Elizabeth had enjoyed in London and Hertfordshire. A luncheon of mince pies and various breads baked on-site had made Elizabeth's mouth drool as her mind could not easily recall her last few meals but her body certainly felt the lack thereof.

"I apologize Miss Elizabeth for not calling Dr. Rowley. I believe your condition was far worse then perhaps you understood." Mr. Darcy apologized to Elizabeth with his normal splash of unintentional offense.

"I feel very well indeed, sir. I believe I just needed to rest." Elizabeth's cheeks tinged pink at the embarrassment of discussing the particulars of her health, but she tried to smile at the man nonetheless.

Darcy dropped his fork and considered the woman next to him intently. "How can you state you only needed rest? Your uncle's servant and I were both gravely concerned you did not wake up fully after falling asleep at the inn. Please say you will inform me if your condition worsens so that I might send from care?"

Elizabeth became lost at the intensely smoldering look Mr. Darcy offered her as her body temperature rose in response to the man's affection. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Elizabeth nodded, not trusting her mouth to speak civilly as a flood of regret and shame washed over her nerves in a familiar feeling storm. When he finally broke his gaze, Elizabeth helped herself to a sip of wine and continue to eat her meal, hoping a display of a healthy appetite would make some inroads at reassuring Mr. Darcy's concern.

"I am not certain that you should travel so soon after your injury, but I did promise my carriages use to take you back to your aunt."

Elizabeth nodded and smiled. "Your hospitality has been beyond any kindness I have ever received, sir. I was the fool for ever thinking that traveling beyond Gretna Green on my own stood as a sound plan. Very lucky I did not perish and that carriage accident." Elizabeth said the words, she began to involuntarily tremble. Flashbacks of the jumbled carriage interior and the image of a dead boy in the grass played in a nonsequential manner in her mind. She became frightened by the incomplete information. Who was the boy?

"Miss Elizabeth!" Darcy's hand reached out gently to touch her elbow as the man struggled with what comfort he might provide a woman clearly in distress in his presence. For her part, a single tear slid down Elizabeth's cheek. As she wiped it away, he released her.

"I am so terribly sorry. When I read your letter . . . the treachery you endured at that man's hands, I could not believe my own vanity had carried me so far." Elizabeth drew a deep breath and released it before drawing another. After three such breaths, she began to feel restored once more and inwardly cursed her female sensibilities that suffered her such a topsy-turvy ride of emotions. "You have been so kind. So very kind, always. And I am forever ruining it."

Darcy stumbled for a moment as his ears heard a similar sentiment from her just the previous afternoon. "I believe your vanity played less of a villain than my proud and selfish behavior. Last night, and again today, you have called me kind. It is a change that I hope you notice. But I was not kind in Hertfordshire Nor Kent."

Elizabeth shrugged and wondered what all she had confessed yesterday. Had she called him kind?

"I lived in arrogance that I thought became justified by my position and status in life. But you –" Darcy looked up from his plate enjoying the view Miss Elizabeth Bennet sitting with him alone at a dining room table. He willed the image to burn into his memory as a comfort he might have when he lost her again later that day in Gretna Green. "But you taught me, madam, that arrogance is still arrogance and can never be kind because the chief concern is one's own comfort."

Elizabeth bit her lower lip to try to keep her tears at bay. This man challenged her, cared for her, and would never suffer her a single day of diminished resources. Whatever they might have had was lost months ago when she rejected him and further when Lydia ran off with Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth's mind took a position of Plato in reflecting about the negative ramifications of such regret. Had she accepted Mr. Darcy's offer of marriage she might have dragged him down with her sister's scandal. The small sacrifice she might make today to cut Mr. Darcy out of her life grieved her, but it was the only way she could think to repay the man's generosity and good opinion.

"I do not relish leaving your lovely estate, but I should return to my aunt as soon as we might manage. How soon do you think the carriage might be readied?" Elizabeth could not answer to Mr. Darcy's soliloquy on her good graces, but a change of subject might help them both.

"I anticipated your wishes and the carriage has been readied as we sat here to eat. If you should like to check your trunks before they are loaded –"

"No, that is not necessary. I believe your staff here to be of the highest caliber." Elizabeth broadened her smile as Mr. Darcy's eyes softened at her compliment.

"I'm happy to hear you say so. But yes, as soon as we are finished here, I have arranged for the maid, Fiona, to ride with us to Gretna Green if you have no objections."

"None, and I thank you for preserving my reputation by riding with young Peter to Broadmeadow." Finding her appetite fleeting at the settled plans for leaving Mr. Darcy's company, Elizabeth looked down her hands in her lap.

"Miss Elizabeth?" Elizabeth looked up at Mr. Darcy with a paleness that belied her conflicting emotions inside. Darcy struggled with what he wanted to say next, and just as she was about to look away, he found some way to broach the subject that would likely be most uncomfortable for them both. "I just wish to say that even after we restore you to your aunt, you have my regards and blessing. I should very much like to be your friend."

Elizabeth's breath hitched in her throat. She began to hyperventilate that such sentiments could still be there after all that she had done to wrong him and her family's fall. Mr. Darcy, for his part, misinterpreted her body language and began to offer excuses for his perceived blunder. "Forgive me, madam, I did not mean to distress you further. Please forget my last statement, 'tis a boundary I should not have crossed." Darcy motioned for the servants to clear the dishes and to allow them both to rise from their chairs.

All of the movement confused Elizabeth further as she silently stamped her slippered foot on the cold stone floor, frustrated that in addition to her loss of memory she felt herself unable to think so quickly as she had before. It was not until Mr. Darcy was practically leaving the room she finally found her voice.

"Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth also found her feet, but felt most unladylike as a steep dizziness and imbalance to her steps forced her to walk with her hip brushing against the chairs pushed in on the long side of the table. "You misunderstand my silence, sir. There are not many phrases a lady might use without giving herself away, I could never dare to hope for more than an acquaintance with you and your family given the monstrous tumble mine has taken."

Mr. Darcy began to shake his head, Elizabeth held her hand up so the man allowed her to speak further. "It would grieve me, sir, to take advantage of your gentlemen-like behavior knowing that nothing but scorn and scandal face the friends and family of the Bennet's. My sister Lydia is lost, and there's nothing I might do, or you might do, to change that. So I accept your offer of friendship as the greatest gift that I cannot possess in good conscience." Elizabeth bowed her head and curtsied at the man, hoping he understood she was not trying to spurn his advances, but spare him the disastrous future she knew faced her as soon as she crossed the border once more into their homeland.

"As you wish, madam" Darcy's mask that he wore in many social situations descended and he and Elizabeth exited the dining room to begin their journey to Gretna Green.


	12. Chapter 13

** I have told readers on TheJaneSide on facebook this, but I wanted to reiterate it. I purposely post less than polished versions of my chapters on Fanfiction. Why? Because if there is ever a situation where I have to deal with piracy or theft of IP, I will be able to tell where the breach occurred by the version of the story stolen. it's like a watermark on an image. I keep records of changes and edits, so I know when a particular chapter was changed etc. I hope you can forgive this slight annoyance but it's one of the ways I post freely here and KEEP my stories up past their publication date. I do beg your patience on this matter.

Oh, there is 1 more chapter today! :)

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

Another day of dry weather made the roads much improved between Langholm and Gretna Green as the Darcy coach spirited away Miss Elizabeth Bennet, her uncle's servant Peter, and Mr. Darcy. A maid in Mr. Darcy's employ, Fiona, shared the bench with Miss Bennet while Peter sat next to Mr. Darcy. Darcy had intended for Peter to ride outside of the carriage but Miss Elizabeth had entreated him to show kindness to the boy who had assisted Elizabeth after the carriage accident. Loathe to admit it, Fitzwilliam would deny Elizabeth nothing in his power to give. He only wished her request would include his presence in her life from this day forward. With such a mixture of company inside of the carriage, conversation remained stilted though Elizabeth found she enjoyed that very much as her head still pained her at intermittent times.

"There be the milepost, shan't be too long now to town." Peter remarked on the familiar milestones he recalled from his journey the morning Miss Elizabeth escaped her aunt's care.

"Miss Elizabeth, have you had the pleasure of reading the Bard's Twelfth Night play?" Darcy attempted to begin a conversation on a neutral subject. He hoped Shakespeare might stir Elizabeth's interests as his cravat felt tighter the closer and closer they drew to Gretna Green. Mr. Darcy abjectly dreaded the activity of turning his heart's desire over to her aunt.

"In which language, sir?" Elizabeth arched her eyebrow, an expression that made Mr. Darcy utter a short laugh.

"Indeed, how careless of me not to specify."

"Two summers ago my father and I translated our favorite play of mix ups into both Latin and Greek."

Darcy's mouth turned down in both corners, impressed. "You are fluent in Latin and Greek?"

Elizabeth began to feel slightly self-conscious, worrying if she boasted too much. Still, it was not a lie to admit such. She nodded and looked out the window.

"Any other languages you claim?" Mr. Darcy teased.

"French." Elizabeth's mouth opened in surprise as the farms grew much closer as they neared the village. "And a little Italian." Turning the tables, Elizabeth put Mr. Darcy in the tough spot of answering a personal question. "Why Twelfth Night? What is it about that play that draws your interest?"

Darcy shrugged and tightened his grip on his walking stick perched vertically between his knees. "My sister, Georgiana, adores the story and I may have been tormented into reciting it with her at Christmastime."

"Tormented? My, my, I must meet this sister of yours who controls you so brutishly!" Elizabeth laughed to show she was not seriously insulting Mr. Darcy's sister who she understood to be significantly junior to him in age.

"And you?"

Elizabeth twisted her mouth into a sly sign of mirth. "I suspected you would ask. It is one of my father's favorites and I confess therefore mine. I suppose you might say I find a strength in Viola to not accept her circumstances after her shipwreck and seek her own destiny, even if it is just as a man." Elizabeth groaned inwardly as her confession spoke too much truth of her current situation, and Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. As the carriage rolled more slowly, their proximity to Gretna Green began to alarm her as well. She could not expect her Aunt Gardiner would be very pleased with her behavior and as she had no success in locating or hearing any intelligence of either Lydia or Mr. Wickham. Her flight from the Three Hammers was indeed nothing more than a dangerous folly.

"Yes, but in the end it was her brother who truly saved her was it not? I hardly see how Viola's efforts would serve her well if Sebastian had not joined the fray," Mr. Darcy countered.

"Sebastian arrived to help the mixup, but I am certain eventually Viola's sex would have come out in due course and Orsino would still be in love with her." The carriage took a nasty jolt and Elizabeth's face paled as white as a specter making Mr. Darcy quite concerned, but he restrained himself from reaching out. Instead, the maid Fiona fussed over Elizabeth raising an eyebrow from Mr. Darcy as to how close those two women had already become in less than a day's time.

"So you believe that two people in love can overcome any obstacle?" Mr. Darcy asked with as much indifference as he could muster.

"And you do not? I believe a great deal of history can be placed at the feet of lovers unwilling to give up. Scandals, affairs, even my current history it would appear is a direct consequence of two people in love," Elizabeth said bitterly.

Mr. Darcy had nothing more to say as he was very confused as to how Bingley and Jane factored into Elizabeth's current predicament. He could hardly credit Elizabeth's intelligence to think that Mr. Wickham truly loved her sister, Lydia. The man was nothing more than an opportunist, and if he was still with Lydia Bennet wherever they might be holed up, it would be nothing short of a minor miracle. It pained Darcy's heart to think of the poor soul that was the boisterous young Bennet girl. She was brash and perhaps too bold, but no one could say she would deserve the life she would likely face once Wickham abandoned her. Though he had set his cousin on the task of finding them, Darcy did not offer Elizabeth any hope of success in the mission. There was none to offer.

The carriage wheels slowed for the third time that afternoon, with the sun hanging low and threatening to touch the horizon, the weary travelers realized just how much time had passed since luncheon at Broadmeadow. Mr. Darcy alighted from the carriage first and offered a hand to help Miss Elizabeth, which she fully accepted. He wondered if he had somehow offended Elizabeth with his frank discussion, but he had precious time to inquire. Elizabeth marched straight on up the path through the door of The Three Hammers, forcing the trio of travelers with her to scramble and catch up.

The inn was nearly deserted as the post chaises had begun running again. Elizabeth's eyes adjusted from the bright outdoors to the wood paneled interior. She spotted the innkeeper and began to walk towards the man when Mr. Darcy's longer gait overtook her and he addressed the innkeeper first.

"I would inquire about a traveler you have staying at this inn. Mrs. Gardiner, if you please?" Darcy asked with the air of a man who is not accustomed to being either ignored nor disappointed.

The innkeeper gave a weary eye towards Darcy, recognizing the man as a fancy gentleman, but not one of his acquaintance. "We be a respectable installation here, sir. I do not readily give dark strangers who trespass my door the private information of my guests."

"I arrived here just two days ago with my aunt, perhaps you remember me?" Elizabeth offered the short innkeeper a flashy smile, hoping the man might remember her custom.

"Ah, the runaway. Been 'specting you." He reached down below his counter and produced a thick missive. He plopped the folded parchment on that counter with his hand firmly over it. Darcy, recognizing the man's need, flicked him a coin from his purse.

"Thank you, sir."

Gently, Elizabeth took the letter addressed to her and unfolded the parchment. Mr. Darcy waited stoically next to her as large tears began to fall as Elizabeth read the missive.

 _As you have left me with nothing more than a mere note, I find an ironic justice in leaving you the same. Imagine my anguish to wake and learn my favorite niece, a young woman trusted to my care, abandoned her family to seek adventure and certain ruin with limited means and a servant? I am appalled at what madness might have possessed you to continue our search on our own, a search I might add is entirely worthless now with your flight._

 _How would I explain your absence, or even be assured you might return? Was I to mount a search for two Bennet women with my children in tow, putting them at further risk in unfamiliar inns and roads?_

 _I have left what resources I might with the Post Master who will see to it you take the post coach back to London, if it be the Lord's will for you to find this letter safely. You might bring Peter with you, if you can arrange his wages from what manner of funds you hid from me on your person, but do not bother to bring him to our doors. He may consider himself discharged without reference for his role in this mess._

 _I am deeply ashamed of you, Elizabeth Lucille Bennet. I pray nightly for your return to our family but find little sympathy in my heart for what consequences you might find._


	13. Chapter 14

NOW FOR THE SCENE WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! (12/4/2016 I added in more drinking, LOL)

"She has left me," Elizabeth sobbed, thrusting the letter from her aunt down to her side. Mr. Darcy gently reached out for an opportunity to read it and Elizabeth relented. Pressing her fists to her temples, Elizabeth felt too animated to sit still. She frantically paced the small row between tables as Mr. Darcy read the short missive. Finally, she halted in her pacing and took a breath to restore her comportment.

"Forgive my outburst. I shall inquire with the post master and return to my family." Elizabeth dipped a small curtsy but did not get more than two steps before Mr. Darcy blocked her path.

"Again, you choose strangers? This news of your aunt's travel plans is distressing." Darcy paused and looked around for any interested in their affairs, but truly, there was none. The one family and two couples in the common room were tending to their own troubles to pay him and Elizabeth any mind. "The coach has already left for the day, look, the room is deserted and tomorrow is Sunday. You shall become stranded."

Elizabeth blinked. "Not strangers, per se, that is not my choice, sir. But I have said quite plainly I do not wish to burden you for your kindness."

"And my kindness is my own concern. Come, let us take a table and think clearly." Mr. Darcy gently led Elizabeth to a table and motioned to the innkeeper for his attentions. "A bottle of wine?"

Elizabeth frowned as another memory came to her mind, this felt familiar. "Whisky?" she asked, captivated by her own fractured memory of a conversation with Mr. Darcy and a foreign taste her mind recalled by that name.

Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth's question to be a request. "Belay the wine, your best Scotch if you do not mind."

The innkeeper left as Elizabeth began to protest about the drink order.

"I am sorry, I spoke out of turn. Wine or tea would have been lovely."

Darcy cocked his head to one side, finding Elizabeth's sudden embarrassment endearing. "No apology necessary for a palate of your caliber. I find you to be the best company yet to enjoy a pour." Darcy's imagination leapt to evenings in each other's company in his study or the library at Pemberley, partaking in a glass of whisky and his wife's company by the fire . . .

"Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy shook his head. "Forgive me, I was not attending."

"I can see." Elizabeth mocked him as the innkeeper had hustled to make his sale. Darcy again placed a coin on the table. She waited as he poured them both a drink.

"Remember, sip. Do not gulp," he teased as he offered her a drink. Elizabeth accepted the glass and then looked to the offending letter still sitting on the table between them. She sighed.

At Mr. Darcy's demonstration, Elizabeth lifted her glass and the amber liquid stung her lips just before it began to burn her mouth. The potent alcohol tingled on her tongue as she felt compelled to take an additional sip to remove the effects of the first. As long as she continued to replace one mouthful with another, the effect and nostalgia of the drink warmed her to the core.

"Careful! Tis better to prolong the completion . . . Er, that is not a drink you finish quickly." Mr. Darcy began to feel exposed as he worried needlessly about his crass language that Elizabeth did not register. Had it been his cousin, the teasing would have been merciless.

"I drank this with you in Canonbie?" Elizabeth began to feel the warmth of the liquid run down her esophagus to her nearly empty belly.

"You do not recall? That is to be expected, I hate to be the one to tell you that the lady did drink too much." Darcy flashed Elizabeth a rare smile that revealed the man's dimples. Elizabeth looked down at her glass and back up through her eyelashes.

"Perhaps it is the whisky's fault I do not remember much of yesterday afternoon. What a remarkable substance." Elizabeth marveled at the potency of such a liquid, now understanding her father's penchant to begin drinking whisky in the afternoon and not ceasing until after dinner.

Darcy nodded and tapped the letter that still sat as an ominous white flag between them of unpalatable surrender. Elizabeth finished her drink and gestured for more. "I am afraid to say that I reserved only one room this evening, but the moon still be high tonight and we could return to Broadmeadow if it pleases you. Come Monday, the Darcy coach will take you to London, as I had planned to leave Scotland then as well."

"So soon? But you just arrived? That is a beastly schedule." Elizabeth took another sip of her second whisky. She found comfort in the liquid's abilities to lessen her anger and hurt about her aunt.

Darcy shrugged. "My sister and the Bingleys will be at Pemberley in a few days' time. It was my aim to see to Broadmeadow's needs for the coming harvest before entertaining my guests in Derbyshire."

"Needs like firewood for the coming chill." Elizabeth offhandedly offered, giggling and drinking again until she reflected on Mr. Darcy's mention of Derbyshire. If not for Lydia's debacle, she might have seen the peak district and all of its glory, with her aunt and uncle. Perhaps they might have even stopped at Pemberley, it being so close to Lambton, and met Mr. Darcy there.

Mr. Darcy felt confused about the mundane mention of firewood. "Yes, certainly, though my steward and I also reviewed other more critical needs, and preparations made for the spring planting."

"Mr. Darcy, I hold great admiration for you, sir." The words tumbled out of Elizabeth's mouth in such a speed, that she hastily took another sip. "What I mean is, I greatly admire your steady and capable management of your estate." Elizabeth frowned as the tip of her nose began to feel a little numb. "Estates."

"Miss Elizabeth, I dare not hope at your words, but do you truly admire me?" The doleful chestnut eyes of Fitzwilliam Darcy captivated the attention of Elizabeth Bennet and neither could look away.

"Yes," she barely managed with a heavy release of breath she had not consciously held. "But it is too late —" she stopped as Mr. Darcy reached into his blue overcoat and produced a closed fist. Extending each long finger in procession, a shiny gold band with a hefty emerald inlayed into the center glistened in the candlelight of their table.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I am embarrassed to offer you another proposal of marriage, but my first was so horrifically done, might we consider it a shadow of another time? I have loved you, madam, since the first night your joy lifted the entire home of Netherfield. I dared not trust my observations the night we met, but watched you most carefully in every chance since then. I would be most honored to have you as my wife. Will you —" he cleared his throat as Elizabeth held her breath, "Will you marry me?"

Elizabeth's emotions bubbled between abject elation and dread. "But Mr. Darcy —"

"If your only reservation is your sister's predicament, know that is no obstacle to me."

Taking a deep breath and nibbling her bottom lip, Elizabeth nodded.

"Is that a yes? You will marry me?"

"Yes, yes Mr. Darcy, I shall marry you!" Elizabeth shouted, then recalled they were not alone but in a common room of an inn. The Three Hammers in Gretna Green, no less. Elizabeth followed Mr. Darcy's gaze after he placed the ring on her finger to the window.

"If we hurry, the sun has not set." He stood and helped her up from the table.

"Hurry?"

Mr. Darcy leaned down and whispered into her ear. Elizabeth chuckled as she took the man's arm, the man who had indeed come to her rescue more than she ever deserved.

Not a half hour later, Peter and Fiona stood to witness the marriage at the blacksmith's anvil of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. And despite the failure of finding Miss Elizabeth's aunt, the happy couple had found a way to each other. Having another drink as the carriage was again hitched with horses, they left Gretna Green to return to Broadmeadow. Neither Mr. or Mrs. Darcy wished to have their first night as husband and wife in a rented room of The Three Hammers. 

Le sigh. And now I have to ruin it all . . . teehee, but it will be wonderful . . . in the end . . . oh about 50 more scenes from here .. . .

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


	14. Chapter 15

Elizabeth Bennet's left nostril twitched in a perturbed fashion. Without opening her eyes, she dreamily attempted to scratch the offending body part with her right hand. But her right hand, attached to her right arm, felt an enormous weight that would not signify in her half-asleep mind. Therefore, the consequence of an itchy nose demanded at least one eyelid to lazily lift and give a blurred glance at her invalid arm.

Intelligence gathered by one eye quickly required the confirmation of a second eye, followed by a squawk of surprise as her entire body pushed and shoved a retreat from the other body inhabiting the bed with her! Groping at the thin sheet to cover her naked form, Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut lest she wake the burly, somewhat hairy, man who had slumbered easily nestled next to her. His back facing her side of the bed, the broad muscular structure of his shoulders and bare back declared her bedmate definitively male. Though not unpleasing to view, she could not allow herself such idiotic indulgences.

Her sandy eyes blinked furiously, she urgently wished to push the last remaining befuddlement of this disastrous awakening out of her mind so that she might think of a plan. Panic rose with the bile threatening to overcome her senses as Elizabeth tried to think about her needs. Clothing first, most certainly, and then an escape.

Shakily, she covered her face to focus as she sat up in the bed and tucked her knees to her chest. A bit of cool, smooth metal brushed against her cheek. Elizabeth removed that palm to hold it out for closer inspection.

"Oh no, no it cannot be," she whispered.

An emerald stone and gold band she had never seen before silently glimmered as a testament to what her gut already feared. Between the token on her hand, her state of undress, and her proximity to a male of the species, Elizabeth Bennet began to believe she was Elizabeth Bennet no more.

But who was the man she had lost her heart to in Scotland? What tricks and deception had he wrought that she remembered very little aside from coming to the border to search for her sister Lydia.

No, she could remember more than that as her breath became ragged. A dark tumble, pain, and a patch of bright sunlight flooded her mind as she squinted her eyes harder to keep them shut, replaying a nightmare in her mind.

"Mmmm, Elizabeth . . ." The man next to her began to stir, rolling to his stomach, his head turning towards her.

Fearful, Elizabeth scuttled away and fell off the bed with a yelp.

Darcy's eyes flew open. "Elizabeth!" He crawled over the mattress to where his new bride had landed directly upon her backside. Realizing she was not hurt, but mostly surprised, he began to chuckle.

"How did we? Mr. Darcy? Where am I?"

Elizabeth's questions brought a quick frown to Fitzwilliam.

"That is a mean jest, madam. Come back to bed. We did not finish what we started last night." He held out a hand and offered her a devilish smile. Elizabeth's jaw quivered.

"But, but, I would never —" Her eyes darted again to the ring on her finger. "Are you saying we are . . . we have. . ."

"Not yet, Mrs. Darcy. There was the inconvenience of sleepiness on your part. I confess it stung my pride, but I was not surprised at your exhaustion with that much travel in one day for a lady." Fitzwilliam considered Elizabeth carefully as the woman could not prevent herself from trembling in the mess of bedsheets surrounding her on the floor though the room was not chilled. He sat up and turned away from her, pulling a lawn shirt over his head as he had not removed his breeches last evening.

"So we did not. We did not," she muttered to herself, over and over, scrambling to reach for her shift and gown on the floor by the foot of the bed, just as a disshevled Darcy stood to walk around it. Elizabeth froze, grasping the bed sheets to cover her front, but as she was leaned over, Darcy could spy her naked back curving elegantly to a part of her he admired very much.

"I would not be such a rogue to ravish my wife while she lay unconscious." Darcy took a step to help her, but Elizabeth pulled back, rubbing her temple with her left hand as she griped the clothes with the bedsheets in her right hand close to her chest.

"Are you ill? Why do you not remember?" Fitzwilliam's voice cracked as he asked his second question.

"I, I do not know. I am trying very hard to recall We are married? For how long?" Elizabeth began to cry as she looked up at Fitzwilliam and tried to find some memory to hold onto.

Crouching down, the creases around his brown eyes became very soft. "This, this is my fault. You were grievously injured two days ago in a carriage accident. You were searching for your . . ." Darcy swallowed. "You had left your aunt in Gretna Green to search for Miss Lydia."

Elizabeth nodded, that much she did remember. As well as the screaming and a dead boy in the grass. Another face came to her.

"Peter!"

Mr. Darcy nodded, he reached out his hand but still, Elizabeth drew back.

"You are distressed, madam. I shall send for your maid." _And the doctor_ , he added privately to himself.

Elizabeth gulped and found her voice. "Thank, thank you very much. I am very sorry that my mind has faltered, Mr. Darcy."

"Perhaps I should allow you privacy. Forgive me." Fitzwilliam rose and stepped beyond her to exit his own room to stand in the hallway inappropriately dressed. His man, Callum, jumped to see his master in the hall in such unkept dress.

"Sir?"

"Mrs. Darcy is indisposed. I should like a bath and send Fiona to her mistress." Darcy turned to walk to the bathing room adjoined to his suite that had a separate door. He had the water closets modified for the more modern developments in all of his homes. "And send a messenger to the Dr. Rowley, tell him I desire his presence as soon as he is available."

"Yes, sir, right away, sir!" Callum Stewart spun around with the freshly pressed garments for his master still in his arm. He had planned to discretely place them in the dressing room, but he did not dare to go into his master's room if Mrs. Darcy was in there, alone. Feeling perplexed, he took a step forward, then back, then exasperated, decided his best way would be back the way he came to order the bath, send Fiona to take care of her charge, and find an errand boy.

This business of a married Mr. Darcy had begun on a very awkward morning for all and Mr. Stewart, with his preference for calmness and peace, did not find he liked it one bit.

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I am writing today, so more chapters might go up beyond this and the next one I am posting. Int he final version, these chapters will be solidified into more logical chapters but in Fanfiction because it's a living, breath activity, writing LIVE, as I call it, I keep the chapter count in here to correspond with the scene count in my writing software. This way, when you all say in a review of a chapter you wished something else had happened, or you had a question, I USE your lovely feedback to make the story BETTER for final publication.

Speaking of, I will work this week to get the preorder up on the other places, but this title can be reserved as we speak on Amazon by the same title. :) Already, fans of my work have put the book at #4 in hot new releases in scottish historical fiction. Every word I speak today into the Dragon is for those who have so kindly clicked to preorder. I am always astonished by your love and support and please know, I send it right back in spades.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	15. Chapter 16

For her part, Fiona found her mistress in a heap of tears and still clutching the clothing from the previous day to her person. Fiona clucked her tongue in sympathy and helped the poor woman up as sobs wracked her body.

"Now, now I love a good fuss as much as any, but there is much to be happy for, Miss."

Elizabeth froze mid sob, confused that this maid had such familiarity with her.

"And who might you be? I demand," she sniffed, "I demand your name."

Fiona laughed and offered her lady a bobbed curtsy. "'tis Fiona, you asked me the same question yesterday morning when I helped you off the floor."

"You mean I did not remember yesterday, either?"

Fiona shook her head and began to assist her mistress into the soiled garments so that they might walk in the hall to her apartments in the home. Broadmeadow was from a time before fancy connecting doors allowed the master and mistress to come and go as they please in each other's company. "Nay, you had no inkling of where you were or how you would come to be safe here at Broadmeadow."

"Broadmeadow." Elizabeth lifted her arms so that they gown could be placed over her shift. She tested the name on her tongue, and a spark of familiarity echoed deep in her mind. "So this is my second day in this place?"

Fiona offered her arms as Elizabeth still appeared wobbly on around legs and led her toward the door. "I believe it would be your third day if you count the night you arrived, unconscious and much maligned. Mrs. Aldridge and I helped you to bed, and it was my honor to serve you in the morn."

For a time, Elizabeth kept her counsel to herself and Fiona did not fill the silence with chatter as they maneuvered to the mistress chambers. Elizabeth gasped as the sheer elegance of the room once more impressed upon her the life and luxury she could expect as the wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy. But her emotions refused to yield to her logic, and warred between states of anger and frustration as too much was new and foreign. The last time she had spoken to Mr. Darcy in her recollection was in a spirit of meanness and gross ignorance. How had she repaired the breach with the man, so much so that he married her despite Lydia's flight?

As more and more questions bogs down Elizabeth's mind, Fiona held her out of the soil gallon shift and asked her mistress if she would like a bath. Elizabeth nodded her consent and found herself wrapped in an elegant robe appear silk she did not recognize.

"Pardon me, but who's clothing is this?"

"'tis the clothing of the mistress."Fiona offered her lady small smile as she left the room to see to the warm buckets of water and lavender oil being dumped into the tub in Mrs. Darcy's private bathing closet. When Callum had ordered Mr. Darcy's bath, Fiona did the same, before saying to her lady. Her gamble had proved correct, and she had a strong suspicion that Mrs. Darcy would feel much better after a nice hot bath to clear her mind. It was unfortunate that her mistress suffered from bouts of memory loss, but she was safe in the master's care, and Fiona could think of no luckier place to fall ill than Broadmeadow.

The angry gash just behind Elizabeth's left ear made washing her hair a trial for her maid, but Fiona managed well. Just as she had done the day before, she would curl Elizabeth's brunette locks into pretty ringlets, and allow a portion of her hair to be down to cover the unsightly mark. Fiona had offered Elizabeth the possibility of a cap, but her mistress had declined.

"Though I be married, I should not like to hide beneath such a monstrosity so soon after my vows!" Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself as she dunked her head to help remove the soap from her scalp. Coming up for air, she wiped any remaining sets of her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, as pitchers of warm water cascaded over her locks. A mild headache still plagued her, as he tried to remember more and more, but continue to fail.

"Where you with me yesterday when I married Mr. Darcy?"

Fiona picked up a brush to clean her lady's back. "Aye, Mrs. Darcy."

"And I was happy?" Elizabeth shivered as the air's coldness contrasted with the warm bath.

"I should think any lady be happy to marry the master. But the two of you together, forgive me, it is not my place to speak." Fiona returned to her duties.

"No, please. I have been robbed of my memory and I would ever be so grateful if you might tell me what you saw."

Fiona held up a white sheet for Mrs. Darcy to wrap in as she stood from her bath. Using the action to practically embrace her new mistress, a development that meant an entire promotion for Fiona Grace, the maid finally gushed. "At first, you was upset because your auntie had left. But then you and Mr. Darcy sat at a table and you talked the matters out. And then we, young Peter and I, were hot on your heels as you both so merrily made your way to the blacksmith."

Elizabeth accepted a fresh shift and one of her own gowns that functioned well as a day dress with its soft calico in a blue-and-white plaid. "Oh, but why can I not remember?" Elizabeth stopped her barefoot to the giggles of her maid.

"Forgive me for speaking plainly, Mrs. Darcy." Fiona continued to test the new relationship budding between the two of them that any great lady and her personal maid would foster.

"I should have you speak plainly, when we are in private. If my memory will be so was unreliable as to deny me the knowledge of what passed just the day before, I find that I will be relying on your plane speak more than you know."

"As you wish, Mrs. Darcy. But it seems to me that you and the master are a love match, as rare as they may be where you come from, the hills of Scotland be full of them. And no love match ever to be came easily. In time, your wounds will heal, and your mind will rest." Fiona began the lengthy process of untangling Elizabeth's tresses as her mistress sat for her before the vanity.

"And in the meantime, how does one proceed in a love match where one member cannot recall the particulars?"

Fiona frowned as she struggled with a particularly difficult knot, an expression Elizabeth spied when she looked in the mirror at her reflection. When her maid looked up, her frustration melted into a wide grin.

"If you love him, that is one memory your mind cannot forget. Hold to that, and patience will have to be the way."

Laughing with her maid, Elizabeth reminded herself all was not lost. She did care greatly for Mr. Darcy, and she was inordinately safe in his protection. As she picked up a comb from the top of the vanity with accents in aquamarine jewels along the crest, a school-girl fancy bubbled in her chest. She would just find joy where joy could be found, and shrug the worries off for a later time when her health allowed it.

******  
Eating lunch, then writing poor Mr. Darcy being taken to task by the good doctor.

XOXOX

Elizabeth Ann West


	16. Chapter 17

I never even thought of 50 First Dates for inspiration . . . funnily enough, it's a much older movie, Overboard, that made me think head injury and temporary amnesia, when I first decided Elizabeth couldn't just be drunk. And the amnesia IS temporary. As the good, and ahem, dreamy doctor will attest . . .

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

***********************

Fitzwilliam Darcy stared in frustration at the blank parchment before him. His last letter to Mr. Bennet had been challenging at best, and now he struggled to relate that he had married Mr. Bennet's second eldest daughter through elopement. If that was not bad enough, the added burden of explaining that his daughter Elizabeth did not remember marrying him was even worse. A knock on the door signaled Darcy he could delay this responsibility of notification for the time being. Shouting the order to enter, a tall, slender man with a head full of copper curls appeared in his study with a medicine bag in hand.

Darcy stood and grasped Doctor Jamie Rowley by the forearm in greeting as the man held Darcy's in return.

"I did not think we would see each other this visit. I was to understand you were coming to see to the fall and winter preparations and then spending the rest of the year at Pemberley?" Jamie asked.

"But even the best plans go awry. Do you recall me talking about my visit to Hertfordshire when I visited in the spring? Just before I had to go to Kent to see my aunt?" Darcy motioned for Jamie to find a seat and the doctor gave a slight tug to the knee of his trousers before taking a respectable chair next to Darcy's desk. Darcy frowned that his friend had not moved to the more comfortable area closer to the fireplace and reclaimed his seat behind his desk, with the mocking blank piece of parchment still visible on the blotter.

"I seem to recall, but to be honest the travels of Fitzwilliam Darcy are rather difficult to keep up with." Jamie offered Darcy a silly grin and laughed out loud. His chuckles came to an abrupt stop when one of his oldest friends would not join him in the banter. "Are you ill? I should have realized when you summoned me there must be something wrong."

Darcy let out an exasperated sigh and held his palm up. "Not I, but my wife."

Doctor Rowley blinked furiously at Darcy wondering if he had heard the man correctly. "Pardon me, did you say your wife?"

"Yes, Mrs. Darcy is very gravely ill, but it is a sensitive matter." The sheer enormity of the story that was his and Elizabeth Bennet's courtship, and lack thereof, began to play in Darcy's mind and he wondered how to explain the situation as it now sat.

"Forgive me, I was not aware you were betrothed. Unless . . . Did you finally give into your aunt and marry your cousin?"

"Heavens no! I do have better sense than that, though not much it will appear once you hear my tale." Darcy abandoned his desk and the ghost of responsibility to pour both himself and his guest a drink. The good doctor may not have the need for liquid courage, but Darcy found when the subject of Elizabeth came up, he was very much in need.

"It all began last autumn when I visited my friend Bingley's estate. There was a family there of five daughters, and I found myself enamored with the second eldest, Elizabeth. I did not conduct myself well, and there were a number of misunderstandings between us that I did not become aware of until I proposed to her this past spring in Kent."

Doctor Rowley nodded and helped himself to his drink as Darcy explained. "And so you married last spring?"

Darcy shook his head. "Like I said, there were misunderstandings. She rejected my first proposal." Darcy winced at having to confess such an embarrassment. He had not needed to share his failure with many persons and the wound still stung.

"A lady rejected Fitzwilliam Darcy? Now I am intrigued as to who this fearless woman is!" Jamie Rowley had gone to school with Darcy but refused to wear his father's expectations for him. Instead of going into the law, the very disappointing James Rowley went into the medical arts. That his father and older brother managed Castle Rowley without him never bothered Jamie who kept apartments in the village. He had found a good friend in Fitzwilliam, even if their professions were a great difference, and a greater purpose in healing those around him.

"I wrote her a letter, very dangerous action in hindsight, and I believe my missive made great inroads into the lady's heart. I next saw Elizabeth again here in Scotland, just two days ago. She had been in the nasty mail coach accident just outside of Canonbie.…" Darcy trailed off as his friend gasped.

"I treated two persons in that accident; it was ghastly. One young boy lost his life."

"Yes, Elizabeth should have sought a doctor's care, but again as I say, it was a complicated matter. She was in Scotland to search for her sister who has run off with our mutual acquaintance, George Wickham."

Doctor Jamie Rowley finished his drink and wiped his mouth with his hand. "So he lives." The two men shared mutual looks of disgust. "I must say, I'm surprised his Lothario ways have not caught up with him."

"Patience is a virtue. It would appear he has deserted the militia as well. Which is a capital crime."

"If they can catch him."

Darcy nodded. He glanced at the drink in his hand and remembered the adorable exchanges with his Elizabeth when she was more than a little tipsy herself. "The first evening I brought her here to Broadmeadow with plans to restore her back to her aunt in Gretna Green. But when we arrived there yesterday, her aunt had left, and Elizabeth and I were married over the anvil." Darcy said the last part as quickly as he could before knocking back the rest of his drink to match his friend. Jamie howled in surprise.

"You dog! Her father will have your hide!" Jamie watched Darcy shake his head. "No?"

"My wife's father is a man of subtle intentions in the sense that I don't believe he does very much to protect any of his daughters. Remember one of them is run off with Wickham as we speak."

"And you ran off with another! How ironic. So how is it that I can help you? Does she need someone to speak to her about the marriage bed, because if that is so, I should think your housekeeper the better candidate."

Darcy sat his glass on top of the blank piece of parchment and watched the magnification of the sun's rays from the window focus into a single ringlet just beyond the rim. He lifted the glass this way and that to move the beam of light around the desk for mild amusement. "When she woke this morning, she had no recollection of marrying me and barely any recollection of the accident."

A steady silence fell over the study is neither man knew what to say next. Darcy struggled with an intense wave of melancholy. His heart clenched to acknowledge there stood no proof if his wife genuinely loved him, as her mind proved addled.

"How badly was she injured in the crash? Do you know?"

Darcy shook his head. "I noticed a length gash behind her left ear when I saw her in the inn, but there were so many other pressing matters at the time, and she refused to speak about it. I believe she must have hit her head very hard. Perhaps on something sharp inside of the carriage." Jamie pulled out a small notepad and a pencil, he began detailing the information that Darcy gave him. "According to the staff, her maid Fiona said her mistress did not remember where she was the first morning she was here, either."

Jamie nodded once more and began to hum to himself as he stared at his notes.

"How serious is this?"

"To be honest, I cannot say until I speak to Mrs. Darcy herself. Have you noticed any signs of stumbling or difficulty walking? Has there been any nausea?"

Darcy recalled them stopping the carriage so that Elizabeth might retch on the way home from Gretna Green. "Yesterday afternoon, however, we had both drank a considerable amount of whiskey before heading to the anvil. I fear she did so on an empty stomach and without much experience of the drink."

"So this woman had an injured head, and she was drunk when you took your vows?"

"I do not like what you're insinuating, sir. I am not a cad!"

Jamie laughed. "If I were speaking to any other man save you I would wonder. But by facts, I am not sure that your marriage is even valid. Have you joined with her in –"

"Of course not!" Darcy did not add that it was not for lack of trying. "When we returned from Gretna Green, I could not rouse her just as the first night when we brought her from Canonbie. I rationalized she might be a sound sleeper, as I don't have much experience with her slumbering habits. I would never be so crude as to root a woman unconscious for the ordeal."

"It is a testament to your character that you would only marry them." The good doctor held up his glass to ask for more refreshment, perfectly enjoying the ribbing he could provide the stalwart Fitzwilliam. In school, Darcy had been the only man to refrain from the company of whores. The only man to stay under good regulation with drink. To reconcile the careful lad with a penny to pay for all the world and indulge none with the man haphazardly eloped with a woman in poor health eluded Jamie Rowley for the present.

"I love her." Darcy paused as he poured his friend more to drink. "I cannot answer for the reprehensible actions on my part but to say that I am hopelessly in love with this woman that she torments my every thought."

Jamie accepted the second glass. "And she loves you in return? That is before she was injured?"

Darcy's face fell, and he stormed away from his friend, finding his study sorely lacking a place to hide. Elizabeth's words in Kent, her anger, her declaration that he was the last man she could ever marry, blared in his mind so fiercely, Jamie had to speak again to grab Darcy's attention.

"I did not see her before she was injured and after I had given her my letter," Darcy said, finally. He turned around to look at Jamie. "I am a fool, but I wanted to believe what I saw, that she was searching for her sister so that she might still have a future with me. To speak this betrays the utter madness and complete lack of credibility on my part."

"Don't think too badly of yourself, you have not abandoned her and whether she loves you or not is irrelevant at this point."

"Not to me!"

"Of course, not to you, but you have a lifetime, it would appear, to work on the lady's heart as regardless of the legalities, she is utterly ruined by reputation if I followed the parts of your story that you conveniently left out."

Darcy gave Jamie a sheepish grin, he had tried to make Elizabeth's flight in Scotland to sound as proper as possible.

"Right, after my interview with her, I will be able to tell you more. But as you say she is able to speak sense and merely loses memory when she sleeps, I think you will find her as recovered as she will be in a few weeks' time with lots of rest."

"A few weeks?" Darcy scowled, mentally working his other plans into the doctor's tentative prognosis.

"I'm sorry, do you have a pressing engagement? Most grooms I know would be happy to spend a few weeks in solitude with their new brides."

Darcy agreed but added that in two weeks' time, an entire house party was to descend upon his home in Derbyshire, thanks to an invitation he had offered Bingley and his family to repay their hospitality in Hertfordshire.

"Like I said, I will need to examine Mrs. Darcy herself and learn if there are any more symptoms she has not shared with you. But by the book, this is no different than when you fell from your horse at thirteen. Do you remember?"

Darcy flinched involuntarily at the memory, a new stallion to his father's stable had thrown him during a hunt. His head had bled so badly, his father had feared for his life. He had been told he slept for two days, and when he awoke, could not remember anything that happened.

"But I only forgot the fall. My wife cannot seem to recall anything since her accident."

Jamie shrugged as he stood, insinuating he was ready to see Mrs. Darcy. "A blow to the head kills one man, does nothing to another. Perhaps the additional trauma and stress have complicated matters for Mrs. Darcy. Perhaps she simply has not had a chance to rest, you say she has traveled every day since the accident?"

"Yes. I should have listened to my instincts and overruled her wishes, waited before we left for Gretna Green."

Doctor Rowley picked up his medical bag and waited by the door until Fitzwilliam seemed to realize what he desired, then Mr. Darcy followed his friend into the hall.

"The one malady for which there is no cure is regret. Let me see to your lady and in time, you will lift the guilt you feel right now."

Darcy agreed and began to show Jamie up the stairs to the apartments for the mistress of the home. He remembered halfway up the stairs that he still needed to write a letter to Mr. Bennet, but reasoned waiting until after Elizabeth had been seen properly by the doctor was in order. After all, perhaps he would be able to add good news of the prognosis besides just that she couldn't seem to remember anything after she slept.

******  
2400 words today, still writing. WOOT WOOT!  
*******


	17. Chapter 19

SWOON ALERT:

XOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

As the sun set at Broadmeadow, Elizabeth Darcy found herself still confined to her bed and beyond restless. It had been a bewildering afternoon after answering Dr. Rowley's questions about what she could remember and what she could not, and she still had not yet held a decent conversation with Mr. Darcy concerning their situation. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of a private conversation with the man, as she both wished to address the pressing matter of their marriage and also avoid discussing something so horrifyingly embarrassing as not recalling how she came to be married.

Elizabeth rolled over in bed and pouted her lips at the stack of books on her bedside table. The footman had brought them up not an hour ago, but Elizabeth found them unable to capture her interest. The first contained a personal history the surrounding area, but the language of an older time gave Elizabeth a great headache just to decipher some of the words. They may has used the letters of the King's alphabet, but were arranged in such a way as to form words utterly foreign to her experiences. Another was a novel that had been such a favorite in the Longbourn home of five daughters, but Elizabeth found herself still exhausted by the oft-repeated lines and tropes being all her younger sisters spoke when she made them both read it. In the third book resided a treaties of the plants and flowers of Scotland, a tome she did find interesting for the many illustrations. But the handwriting so cramped in the margins made actually reading it too difficult in her current condition.

Groaning in frustration, Elizabeth rolled over away from the offending books and blew her breath out. She felt a momentary twinge of discomfort and pain. She forgot she could not lay on her left side without aggravating her injury so she rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her hands methodically thumped on either side of her hips an exasperated drumming as she considered her options. She had to rest, but she was not tired. She wanted to walk out of doors, but Dr. Rowley had warned Mr. Darcy that people with injuries such as hers are prone to wander and should never walk alone. She did not feel so injured as to not be able to walk, but then again, she was so injured that she could not read. It was a vexing situation and a wave of homesickness brought a familiar tickle to Elizabeth nose. She scolded herself that she might cry if she thought too much about how unfamiliar everything around her felt and how much she longed for her sister Jane.

A stunted knock on her door interrupted her woolgathering and Elizabeth called out for whoever it was to enter. She knew it was not Fiona, that woman's knock was soft and only two raps. When the door did not open for a few seconds longer than one would anticipate it to take to turn a door handle, Elizabeth called out again.

"I suspect it is you, Mr. Darcy. Please come in." Elizabeth sat up, feeling a bit of dizziness as she tried to prop her own pillows behind her. The door finally creaked open and an impeccably dressed Fitzwilliam Darcy stood in the doorway with such an expression of care upon his face that Elizabeth caught her breath.

"I am terribly sorry to trouble you if you are resting–"

"Please trouble me, sir!" Elizabeth offered him a smile. "I am doing my best to rest as instructed by your friend, but I'm afraid it is not going very well. I find I do not feel so injured that I may not walk, but yet I am too injured to read a book, though perhaps if there was one I was actually interested in I might find the task less odious than what the poor footman brought me." Elizabeth shrugged at the end of her long rant, inwardly angry she was prone to these outbursts of anger and frustration. Why could she not speak nicely to Mr. Darcy as he had truly done nothing but be so kind to her?

"I wondered if you would be willing for me to read to you? I brought a copy of Twelfth Night which I know is a favorite of yours." Mr. Darcy held up the blue leather bound volume as proof of his offer.

Elizabeth cocked her head to one side. "And how did you guess it was a favorite of mine? I don't believe I've ever told you that it was." Elizabeth remembered all the way back to their exchanges at Netherfield Park, the local estate she stayed at when her sister had turned ill and was leased by Mr. Darcy's friend, Mr. Bingley. Not once did she mention that specific play, though they had sparred over _Romeo and Juliet_ after their dance set.

"You translated it with your father one summer, did you not?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said tentatively as Darcy pulled the chair closer to her bedside. "Did my father tell you about that?"

Darcy remained silent for a moment as he considered what to say next. Jamie had warned him to be careful about overloading his Elizabeth with too much information about memories she could not recall. Such abundance of lost information would lead to greater frustration and anger on her part and make recovery more difficult. So Darcy chose to lie. "Your father may have mentioned it when I visited Hertfordshire. It feels wrong to make such a boast at this moment in time, but I have a good memory, Mrs. Darcy. You can rely upon that."

Elizabeth felt herself mesmerized by the warm and genteel manners of Mr. Darcy sitting by her sickbed and offering to read. She saw none of the proud and haughty man who had insulted her at the first assembly and again in his ill worded proposal intent. "And do you enjoy the play?"

Darcy shrugged. "I read it to my sister last Christmas at her command, you see. And I have found that recently I have come to understand the pain of unrequited love more so then I ever gave the Bard credit for."

Elizabeth laughed and reached out her hand to her husband, a gesture that Mr. Darcy simply looked at before reaching out with his own. Elizabeth clasped his hand and gave him a gentle squeeze, a sign of affection that nearly broke Darcy's heart. "My, my, I must meet this sister of yours who controls you so brutishly!" Elizabeth removed her hand as she continued to laugh at her own jest while Darcy forced a smile. Inside, the man's heart broke further as Elizabeth had repeated nearly the same words she had said in the carriage just the day before.

"So I should begin?" He asked hopefully as Elizabeth frowned. "I have already disappointed my lady I see."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. "If I am to speak the lady parts, should you not sit next to me on my bed so that I might read as well?"

Darcy sucked in his breath at the invitation Elizabeth offered. Though they were indeed married, he was not ready to assert any rights of a husband given her condition. Nor did he trust his mettle to resist her charms when he was so hopelessly enamored. "I believe if I moved the chair closer you might be able to see, and I can always hand you the book as it will not be long until dinner will be delivered up here for both of us."

"I will not bite." Elizabeth patted the side of her mattress in hopes of convincing the man to her way of thinking.

"I am not certain I wish to test that declaration. But you must understand, you're placing me in a difficult position."

Elizabeth's face crumpled into sheer agony as she felt another wave of homesickness and breathless. The tears that had threatened to fall earlier gave no such warning before they began to tumble down her cheeks. "I cannot begin to understand your patience, sir. You are so very kind, and I am forever making the worst of it."

"The first time you said those words to me I suffered through them with silence and strength. But I do not hold such strength in this moment, Elizabeth." Mr. Darcy grasped his wife's hands and held him close to his lips to offer her a chaste kiss. "I wish nothing more than to remove all impediments between us, but I cannot. Together, though, I am certain we can survive this trial. We've survived so many more."

Elizabeth sighed and wiped her eyes with the back of one hand she wrestled free, not willing to remove the other one in Mr. Darcy's hands. "And we have so much more to confront, I am afraid. My sister–"

"Is the least of my concerns right now. But you madam, becoming well again, becoming the Elizabeth I know and will chase to the ends of the earth. That, "" he paused to press a kiss to her hand once more before reluctantly letting it go. "That is my greatest concern. Now shall I?"

Elizabeth bit her lower lip and nodded, and in a deep, rich baritone voice, Fitzwilliam began to read:

 _If music be the food of love, play on;_

 _Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,_

 _The appetite may sicken, and so die._

 _That strain again! it had a dying fall:_

 _O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,_

********  
The line in the assembly about the food of love in the 2005 movie is NOT in the original book, but I have always loved that particular characterization of ODC sparring over literature. :) My heart melts so much over poor Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. She is one very lucky woman . . . EDITING TO ADD TOO: Thanks to mk304, that's what I meant to say, it was not AT the assembly, and it also always struck me as a joke since if Darcy IS quoting Twelfth Night, he is doing so incorrectly, it's if MUSIC be the food of love . . . though I suppose one could argue there is not much difference between music/poetry and most poetry was sung as a ballad in Shakespeare's time. Anyway, CHEERS to all of the Literature NERDS, I know not one of us ever went to sleep before finishing a book that we loved. To Book Hangovers!

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	18. Chapter 20

**A/N: The preorder is up on Amazon, Google Play, iBooks, and Nook! This is a first for me, I have NEVER put preorders everywhere before! I don't have it up on Kobo yet, and that will have to be a next time preorder thing since the kinks will be worked out for next time. As a consolation, there happens to be a book of mine that's normally $9.99 and is on sale just on Kobo for $0.99. So if you loved A January for Jane here on , the first 4 books in that series are on sale as a bundle! Absolutely NO ONE has to ever buy anything from me, all stories stay up here and my Facebook group the #Janeside let's me give anyone who needs one a file of ANY of my books. I share the preoder information with you all because many who follow me here want to know... and I really do appreciate that support!**

 **Right, so FOUR chapters today or scenes as it were. About 25 more to go. And next week CLEAN copy of this story will start going up all pretty like on my site. :)**

 **Love you all! And I have started making my list of all of the review names for acknowledgement in the back of the published book, so please know your reviews and CONSTANT encouragement mean the world to me.**

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

*******************

Fitzwilliam Darcy had retired to his study in a conundrum of emotions. On one hand, his second night as a married man had brought him great joy in Elizabeth's company. They had read the first act of _Twelfth Night_ together. Additionally, the dinner and conversation they enjoyed in her room provided him with more insights to the woman he had pined over for six months. As his failed proposal provided the unusual and bitter taste of disappointment in his adult life since becoming master of his family's fortune so did act of becoming her husband. Underneath the happiness a session of reading and good company produced swirled the fiery passions of a new groom yearning for satisfaction.

Returning to his task of detailing his delay in Scotland for yet another express to his cousin, Darcy picked up his pen for longer intervals to think carefully about his words. He could not help his abundance of love for Elizabeth from spilling into the lines he penned, but suddenly, Fitzwilliam found himself in the new position of concealing intimate details of his personal life that his jubilation seemed inclined to share. He did not wish to have to strike a line through and give his cousin more to laugh at his expense.

Thus Darcy proceeded to write his letter with an abundance of caution. Once satisfied he shared enough, but not too much, he sprinkled sand set the ink. Watching the was soften in the candlelight he sighed. This had to hopefully be the last express he would have to send for a number of days as he was running out of riders to send south. Ordinarily, his business was more of the mundane sort, letters to stewards and houses that never required much haste to their travel.

Darcy was in the middle of writing to his sister of the joys and laughter she might look forward to sharing with her new sister when a familiar cadence of knocking disturbed his activity.

"Enter."

Mrs. Aldridge beamed from ear to ear as she entered her master's study and bustled quickly to before his desk.

"Heavens alive, but Mrs. Darcy, oh how it means so much to say that aloud, sir!" The normally reserved Mrs. Aldridge allowed her personal satisfaction to escape before she resumed a more docile manner. "Mrs. Darcy humbly requests parchment and supplies for her correspondence if you might spare it."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "When I left Mrs. Darcy she stated she intended to retired for the night. Who is it that she wishes to write at this hour?" An unwelcome tinge of jealousy tainted Darcy's tone but Mrs. Aldridge clucked her tongue and brushed it aside.

"A new bride always has happy news to share. I am certain she must've tried to go to sleep and found herself distracted by the good fortune of her new marriage. She will not be the first quick bride eager to tell her family and friends of her new life."

Darcy mulled over Mrs. Aldridge's evaluation of the situation and found the explanation to be more than beyond reasonable. In fact, he inwardly chided himself for worrying about Elizabeth writing a letter. Of course she likely wanted to write her father and her sister, and perhaps even her mother, about their marriage! And if she was well enough to write, he should take that as a sign of her continued recovery from her accident.

"Forgive my stupidity, Mrs. Aldridge, I find the business of being a husband rather unfamiliar. I am sure to find my way in time."

As the words of apology came out of Darcy's mouth, he wondered at even making such a confession to his housekeeper! This business of becoming a husband was odd, indeed.

Before two days ago, Mrs. Aldridge's loyalty was to him alone, but things were different now that there was a mistress of the house. He knew traditionally intrigues and confidences would often lie between the mistress of a great house and her staff members, but Darcy did not think that Elizabeth had garnered such loyalties so quickly. Still, as his mind had become concerned his housekeeper might share what he said about her writing a letter and make Elizabeth feel uncomfortable, he found himself with a desire to protect his confidences with Mrs. Aldridge. But he could not find a way to say as much without making the situation worse.

"And may time be ever on your side, sir. I believe you have made a great match and though the mistress be unwell, this too shall pass." Mrs. Aldridge offered as Mr. Darcy packed the writing supplies into a traveling secretary he kept for his own use.

"Is this too heavy?" Mr. Darcy gingerly weighed the wooden box with a lid that would prop up in his hands before Mrs. Aldridge reached forward to take it from him.

"No need to call a footman, I am as sturdy as I ever was." Mrs. Aldridge took the burden from Mr. Darcy's hands and they both shared a laugh.

Mrs. Aldridge walked slower towards the door than she had come into the room. She did not wish to drop the portable writing desk for her mistress. Mr. Darcy called out to her as he scrambled to her side when he realized he would need to open the door for her.

"By the by, why do you think I have made a good match?"

Mrs. Aldridge bristled at the door as she found Mr. Darcy's erratic behavior quite amusing. "From the moment she has crossed this threshold, she has had only a kind word for every man or woman at her service. For most ladies feeling unwell this would not be the truth. And I've seen the way she looks at you, sir. If ever there was a woman in love, it was your Mrs. Darcy."

Darcy looked down in a brief moment of embarrassment as he accepted Mrs. Aldridge's kind words about his wife. He gulped before trusting his voice and it came out merely as a whisper.

"Tell Mrs. Darcy the writing secretary is hers. Tell her to please consider it a gift and that I will procure more supplies for it tomorrow."

"I believe she'll like it very much sir." Their business at an end, Mrs. Aldridge left her master with her mission accomplished.

Considering the doorknob in his hand, Darcy left his study door open before he sauntered over to his desk to complete his letter to his sister. Although he knew Elizabeth would likely stay above stairs to rest and see to her new activity, a small part of them hoped she might come see him in his study. But while he waited for such an unlikely occurrence, he reminded himself that at the very least Elizabeth Bennet was now Elizabeth Darcy and she was in his home. And very soon, they would both be engaged in the same activity of writing a letter. It would have to be enough to satisfy his appetites for now.

*******  
Sigh, my Darcy is smoldering . . . . 3 EAW


	19. Chapter 22

Fiona Grace frantically pushed a pin behind her right ear back into place as she scurried down the back steps towards the kitchens. She had overslept and was late to begin her morning responsibilities. She found Mr. Callum at the servant's table drinking a coffee and reading a book by the high windows that lined the half-sunken back end of the estate.

"A bit of a late start this morning?" Callum Stewart teased his newest counterpart in the household. As Mr. Darcy's personal valet, Mr. Stewart did not enjoy an easiness with the Broadmeadow staff as he traveled with his master. At Pemberley he was more at home having been born and raised on the estate, but he had no family left of which to boast after the fevers in '03. For the most part he he held no regrets as to his lack of relationships as it allowed him to provide better service to Mr. Darcy. And Mr. Darcy paid him considerably well and treated him as well as any valet might hope.

"I shall be better. I was helping Mrs. Darcy late into the night and I fear this morning got away from me." Fiona Grace held much in common with Mr. Stewart other than merely the distinction of personally serving the master and mistress. She was the newest maid to the staff; she, too, did not enjoy familiarity with the other members.

Mrs. Aldridge had looked out for her since the housekeeper and Fiona's mom had been young maids together in the household decades ago. Although Fiona's mom had married the draper's son and taken her fine sewing skills to town, Fiona's brother had inherited the shop and seen little use for a sister who was sixth of seven children. And so Fiona, with her superior sewing skills she learned at her mother's knee and the basics of service, came to Broadmeadow to seek her livelihood.

Mr. Callum watched as Fiona hastily loaded a tray with the plates and dishes set aside for Mrs. Darcy's fast breaking by the kitchen staff. She looked around for the flower to place on the tray, but could find not a bloom set aside with the dishes. Just as she was to take another set of stairs down to the cold room where the greenery and flowers for the day's meals were kept, a young maid of more sass than sense blocked her path. Constance had been born at Broadmeadow and began her duties at a very young age, a seniority she lorded over the other maids and footmen with immense glee.

"Have you misplaced a rose?" Constance produced the pretty bloom from behind her back and sniffed deeply from the flower meant for Mrs. Darcy.

"You mustn't ruin it." Fiona held out her hand trying to pluck the rose from Constance's grasp, but the slightly taller maid held it above her head and waved it just out of Fiona's reach. Mr. Stewart, for his part looked up from his book to watch the exchange between the maids with great interest.

"Take it? Take it little village girl. You can't?" Constance began to smile as another maid, Millie, brought an empty tray to the buffet and snickered in clear support of Constance's bullying. This encouraged Constance.

"They'll never take you to London, if that's what you hope. You are nothing but temporary Fiona Grace, and the new mistress will tire of you. If she can even remember who you are . . . " The knowledge of Mrs. Darcy's condition had trickled through the staff.

Hamish MacGuffin, who had been dawdling over his porridge after his first round of work for the morning before he could eat, joined the fray with lopsided grin. "I think the master is already tired of the mistress, it be too early for a married man to be out chopping wood. I hears he ain't plucked the mistress yet, so you're lady not even be a proper mistress. She ain't mine, I says."

"If any of you value your jobs you will say nothing more about Mr. or Mrs. Darcy in my presence!" Fiona Grace uttered crossly then lifted her right foot and stamped as hard as she could down upon Constance's toes of her left boot so that the maid cried out in pain but lowered her arm. Fiona snatched the rose from Constance and wheeled around on her heel right into the face of Mrs. Aldridge.

"Forgive me for . . . forgive me, I – I –" Fiona's cheeks burned with shame as she realized the housekeeper had likely just seen her assault another staff member.

"Mrs. Aldridge! She there, she just stomped on my foot. You saw it! I told you she was not fit."

The service area of the kitchens remained quiet as Mrs. Aldridge offered all five of the staff her steely gaze. "From what I saw, you deserved it. Do not seek to interrupt Mrs. Darcy's personal maid again or you will be dismissed from this house. Do I make myself clear?" Constance looked at Mrs. Aldridge in horror, utterly shocked the housekeeper would dare threaten her with dismissal after she had been on the staff for more than ten years. "And Hamish MacGuffin. If your master be outside seeing to his work while you sit and cool your porridge, you have your priorities most severely out of order. Not only will you go outside this instant, but for your tongue you are to be excluded from this evening's meal. If I find that you have snauck food or someone has brought you something to eat, then we shall take your offenses to Mr. Darcy himself though I do not believe you will find mercy there for insulting your employers." The younger staff bowed their heads and found a way to disappear as quickly as they might from Mrs. Aldridge's presence. Fiona Grace took a deep breath as she perfected the tray for Mrs. Darcy but found herself unnerved as Mrs. Aldridge neared the young woman much too close for Fiona's comfort.

"Do you know why I placed you in the care of that woman when she arrived here instead of the more senior maid?" Mrs. Aldridge whispered.

Fiona shook her head, her hands still placed on the tray's handles but not daring to move as Mrs. Aldridge continued to explain.

"You have a fierce goodness in your soul, and Mrs. Darcy will need your strength in the days and weeks ahead. They will be taking you to London, that has already been decided. But do not let Constance goad you into losing such an honor. Today you did as you must, but in the future, you must find another way to dutifully execute your responsibilities without resorting to violence. In another household, such action would look badly on Mrs. Darcy and potentially place you in grave danger. Do you understand me?"

Fiona Grace nodded her head profusely and bit her lower lip. She would not cry, she was not prone to tears like other young women. But she knew Mrs. Aldridge was correct. Growing up nearly the youngest in a family where every member fought for its bread-and-butter, the docile looking Fiona could just as easily hold her own in a scrap. But as Mrs. Darcy's personal maid she could not resort to those skills to solve her problems. She would have to find another way.

"Good girl." Mrs. Aldrich patted Fiona's upper back, squarely between her shoulders bringing a higher posture out of the maid. "Go see to your mistress."

Fiona did not wait for another invitation to leave and thanked her lucky stars the situation had gone as well as it had. Mrs. Aldridge turned her attention to Mr. Stewart still sitting at the table reading his book.

"Do you not have some task to see to, Mr. Stewart?"

"I am seeing to my task, Mrs. Aldridge." Mr. Stewart held up the book so that Mrs. Aldridge might read the title.

"Oh honestly, you think that Mr. Darcy wishes to change his dress to a more stylish sort?" Mrs. Aldrich had a hard time imagining the fastidious and traditional Fitzwilliam Darcy taking on a mode of dress that most would consider very foppish.

"It is my task to be prepared for all eventualities. Marriage changes a man."

To this, Mrs. Aldridge had no response. It was infuriating when the valet was clever, so she merely sighed and left him to take an interview with the Cook over the day's meals.

********  
GO FIONA! I 3 her so much. :)


	20. Chapter 23

Years of carrying heavy bolts of fabric had strengthened Fiona's arms to the point where managing a heavy tray up a flight of stairs was little more than a mild exercise. Opening the door with one hand and then a slide of her foot while she backed into her mistress' suite of rooms however, was a dance she was still perfecting and her clumsy choreography awakened her mistress.

"Who are you? Where am I?" A frightened Mrs. Darcy set up in the bed, clutching the covers, but Fiona was prepared.

"All will be well, Miss. Just a moment, if you please." Fiona offered her mistress the most sympathetic voice she could muster as she placed the tray down upon the bedside table and opened the drawer underneath. Pulling a letter from the drawer, she handed it to Mrs. Darcy and curtsied.

Elizabeth frowned but accepted the letter from the unknown maid and she broke the seal, finding it odd that the outside was addressed to her sister Jane. But inside, the letter contained something entirely different.

 _If you are reading this letter, we have awoken again with no memory of where we are or how we came to be there. Do not panic or fret. You are at Mr. Darcy's estate in Scotland called Broadeadow and the woman who is helping you is named Fiona Grace._

"Fiona Grace?" Elizabeth tested her voice and the mysterious clairvoyance of the letter written in her own hand. The maid smiled and bobbed her head. Elizabeth continued to read.

 _If you do not recall, Lydia has run off with Mr. Wickham. We came to Scotland with Aunt Gardner to search for them, but it was in vain. Foolishly, we took a carriage with the servant Peter heading to Canonbie to continue the search against Aunt's wishes. The carriage toppled and we were grievously injured, you can feel the remnants of this terrible turn of events just behind our left ear._

Elizabeth hands shook as she held the letter with one hand and gently touched her hairline behind her left ear. She winced in pain as the area was still tender to touch and as she brushed her fingers along the length of what felt to be a nasty cut, she suddenly realized that nearly half the back of her head must've opened up in the carriage crash.

"'Tis healing nicely, Miss." Fiona was careful not to use her mistress' true name until she finished reading the letter as she began to open the dish covers and pots for Mrs. Darcy's meal.

 _But there is cause for rejoicing! When we arrived in Canonbie we met Mr. Darcy and he offered us great assistance, perhaps the greatest of all. After spending one night at Broadmeadow, he escorted us to Gretna Green where we were dismayed to find that Aunt Gardiner had left us as punishment for our flight. The details have still not been shared with us entirely, but we drank whisky again, our first time having been in Canonbie, with Mr. Darcy and proceeded to marry him at the anvil in Gretna Green._

Elizabeth involuntarily gasped at the intelligence of her name and status change to that of the wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy! Suddenly, the ring on her hand commanded her attentions and though she admired greatly the craftsmanship and beauty, the very presence of such a token unnerved her.

 _It is utterly important that we keep our wits as our condition has barred us from travel until such time as our memory is recovered. But there is still no word of Lydia and Mr. Wickham being found and our father is still in London conducting the search. Mr. Darcy is not the same man we knew in Hertfordshire and Kent. He is kind and thoughtful and we admire him a great deal. Although I suspect it will be hard if we are to wake up tomorrow with no recollection again, please try to ease the burden of our injury on that man. We are married, but he has not asserted his rights and he constantly worries that we are worse then we ought to be because he did not call the doctor our first night at Broadmeadow._

Elizabeth reread the letter from top to bottom again and then read over the names jotted at the bottom with their roles as she flinched and tried to remember.

"I am supposed to ask you a question, Mrs. Darcy, if you do not mind?" Fiona Grace interrupted Elizabeth's silent consideration of her situation to continue her duties that she had promised to the same mistress just the night before.

"Did I ask you to give this question?"

Fiona nodded.

"Then proceed, because clearly yesterday me put a great deal of thought into the care I might need today." Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself at the ridiculousness of her solution for memory loss. Though she could not claim it was ineffective. Writing a letter to herself seemed to be the best result for all involved if her injury truly placed a great burden on Mr. Darcy. She could recall their time in Hertfordshire and Kent and that Lydia was lost without the letter's assistance. But the carriage accident and the days that followed she could not. Rather, she conjured up ideas of what those events detailed in the letter might have looked like and held those in her mind.

"Do you remember the name of the inn at Canonbie?" Fiona asked the first question she had memorized the night before at Mrs. Darcy's insistence.

Elizabeth Darcy shook her head.

"Do you know the name of the story you read last night with Mr. Darcy?" Again, Elizabeth shook her head. Fiona Grace involuntarily sighed as her mistress had not appeared to recover any memory from the day since the accident. "Well, as they say, tomorrow is another day!" Fiona offered her mistress a smile as she brought her tray over to the bed so that the woman might eat.

"But if I can never remember what happened the day before when I go to sleep, how am I ever to live a life?" Despite the letter's warning, Elizabeth began to panic over the unsettling feeling of not remembering the last few days and yet so much had happened.

"Does your head ache?" Fiona sidestepped her mistress' question with one of her own and Elizabeth gawked at her with her jaw slightly open but slowly began to answer with another shake of her head. Smug, Fiona clasped her hands. "See? Any morning before you woke up with a terrible headache, one that made walking very difficult. If you awoken this morning without your memories, that is distressing, but you are in safe hands and well cared for, if I do say so myself, ma'am." Fiona became more embarrassed as her confession continued with such a boast but Elizabeth laughed at the young maid.

"I can see why I like you!" Elizabeth said wrinkling her nose at the breakfast before her and swinging her legs to the side of the bed to test the maid's theory. If she could walk with no impediments, then she would take the maid at her word despite her misgivings, she was indeed recovering ever so slightly day by day.

Her bare feet involuntarily scrunched up at the luxurious feeling of the Persian beneath her bed. Elizabeth stood up and stretched her arms above her head. The maid was correct, she did not feel any sort of hindrance to her movements. Taking in the room around her, Elizabeth marveled at the grandness of every single item until a steady sound of thwacking distracted her from feeling more as a member of royalty then merely a forgetful wife of Mr. Darcy.

"What is that sound?" Elizabeth tiptoed over to the window and made sure to stay obscured behind the wall as she tentatively peaked out the curtains below. Fiona opened her mouth to tell her mistress, but instead with a bit of mischievousness the maid allowed the grand lady to discover her husband once again. Down below in nothing but his lawn shirt and breeches, a sweaty Fitzwilliam Darcy raised the axe above his head and brought it down all of his masculine might into the log before him. _Thwhack_. Then with one sure hand, he lifted the splitting maul hammer and swung his arm in a great arc to bring it down hard upon the axe. _Ting_. Elizabeth jumped as the force of Mr. Darcy's swing split the log in two and the man laughed jovially with the groundsmen below. There appeared to be some sort of competition being conducted amongst the men, but Elizabeth's eyes never left Fitzwilliam's physique.

Servants rushed forward to take the split wood to load it on the cart and another placed a log for Mr. Darcy's next hit. Elizabeth's tongue slightly darted out of the side of her mouth as she watched him with great interest split log after log, his broad shoulders and easy manners providing her with a much enjoyable display.

"Does Mr. Darcy often chop wood?"

Fiona quickly pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing at her mistress's question that was the same as what she had asked her first morning at Broadmeadow.

"On occasion. But I believe he has found the pastime very rewarding since you have come to live here." Fiona remembered the vulgarity of Hamish's words and chided herself inwardly for hinting at the personal lives of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. She escaped to the large closet to pull out a gowns for Mrs. Darcy's use.

Not able to help herself, Elizabeth again slid the curtain just a few inches so that she might continue to spy upon her newly discovered husband. At first, she scolded herself for watching such an inappropriate display of masculinity for a maiden, but then chuckled as according to a letter in her own hand and the ring on her finger, she was a maiden no more as far as the authorities were concerned. This brought to mind the other matter of consummating her marriage, an act that did frighten her though her aunt had long apprised her and Jane of the particulars so that neither one would fall victim to the promises of a silver-tongued lad. Elizabeth's mind raced to a new topic in that line of thinking as she began to wish Aunt Gardiner had hgiven a similar talk to Lydia. Perhaps then, they would not be in they mess. At the same time, she realized looking at the man below splitting wood with such vigor, her wifely duties would not be responsibility she would shirk.

"Is the mint green to your liking?" Fiona Grace held up a gown that would serve as a proper day dress for Elizabeth Bennet, but she was Elizabeth Darcy .

"I should like the plum frock if you please, with the lower neckline." Elizabeth smirked as her maid smiled at her choice and thanks to her morning letter to herself, Elizabeth Darcy was ready to seize the day.

**********************  
TAAAAA DAAAAAAA! Elizabeth has a plan! She's so smart, our Lizzie (I misspell her name on purpose as it is my real name too and it's a way I claim a little bit of ownership) will never take something as silly as amnesia and a carriage accident lying down. NO! There's our girl, and she's so ready to jump her Mr. Darcy, like us all . .. . gee, I wonder how HE is going to feel about this misrepresentation of her recovery . . . hmmmm

:twiddling fingers again, this is when you know you're getting to all of the good parts!::

XOXOX,

Elizabeth Ann West

P.S sadly this is all for today I'm afraid. I will record more tomorrow as MY Mr. Darcy returns home from a week long work trip. And I DON'T have amnesia. LOL. Tonight I am taking off! Janeside is still open to all and any, I think we're nearing 200 people there now, it's fantastic!


	21. Chapter 18

I am a SUCKER for the Col. Fitzwilliam character, always, in every story. Probably because I am married to a military man . . . . so yes, the plot is about to thicken as we bring it all to a simmer . . .

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam's horse carefully negotiated the narrow alleys of Cheapside just as the day's heat began to amplify the summer's most displeasing smells. A city full of people and all of their waste were all a visitor to London could expect to greet him as the fashionable season came to a close. Richard counted the houses, as many of the numbers were obscured or simply missing, until he arrived at a town home that appeared in better condition than those earlier on the block. The door boasted a fresh coat of blue paint just as his cousin's letter from Scotland had described. Over the door hung a slightly rusty two and three to denote the residence. A groom from the carriage house behind shuffled forward to take the reins as the Colonel's boots landed in two inches of muck and he cursed under his breath.

After giving the young groom explicit instructions for his mount, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of His Majesty's Finest climbed the stone stairs to the front door stomping with each step to remove as much of the street's filth as he could from his boots. When his ring was answered, Richard introduced himself and asked for Edward Gardiner, surprised to find himself admitted right away.

The house of Edward Gardiner bustled with activity as the colonel was not the only guest to disrupt the daily routine. After being shown into Mr. Gardiner's office, the colonel felt confused as it appeared the room was empty. Shortly after the servant closed the door, a voice from the high wingback chair by the fire greeted him.

"I am impressed with your diligence."

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of the — Regiment at your service. And whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to? Mr. Gardiner?" Richard continue to stand by the door as he had not been formally invited to take a seat. The man laughed.

"My brother sees to his business. I suspect you received a letter from Mr. Darcy much as I have, though I must say I did not fully expect you the same day. I received his missive just this morning, perhaps not long after the rider left your barracks." Mr. Bennet revealed his identity by stating he had received a letter similar to Richard's from his cousin.

"I came to call as soon as I might, I had morning exercises you see."

"Certainly, commendable, in fact, come in, come in. Might His Majesty's Finest indulge in a drink?" Mr. Bennet offered to pour from a decanter at his side. Richard stepped forward to take the wooden chair nearest his host, noticing the open book on the man's lap. Richard frowned, though Darcy had warned him that Elizabeth's father may not appear to be doing very much to find his daughter. But Richard suspected even this much inactivity would draw the fire of Darcy's breath, yet Richard kept his own.

"So another joins the fruitless brigade to find my foolish daughter. I cannot speak ill of your cousin, but I do not see his connection in all of this. You both have an acquaintance with my Lizzie?" Mr. Bennett's hand showed a slight tremor as he handed the glass to the colonel.

"I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Elizabeth Bennet at my aunt's estate in Kent. I believe she visited her cousin, my aunt's parson."

"That great buffoon. But Lizzie went to please Charlotte,er—Mrs. Collins, and I was loathe to lose her. When the news came of Lydia's flight, she left for Scotland with her aunt where I am appraised she has reunited with your cousin and enlisted him in our aid. . ."

Richard schooled his face at Mr. Bennet's odd acceptance of his daughter Elizabeth being alone with a man not of her family. To say this Bennet man held peculiarities did not fully prepare him for such a bizarre interview. Still, the man continued talking, so Richard felt it best to listen more and talk none.

"But I tell you just as I told my brother, there is nothing to be done. My time is nearly up for the show I must perform for my wife. You see that my daughter is too penniless for a man like Wickham to seek a ransom. He may not have even had to say very many pretty words to get my daughter in the carriage." Mr. Bennet coughed; a wet, hacking display, not a sound to be heard in the middle of summer's warmth. Out of breath after his fit, Mr. Bennet helped himself to more of his own drink which appeared to subdue whatever irritation lie in his chest.

"I wonder if you might share with me any information you may hold concerning Mr. Wickham. I understand he was in your home county with the militia?"

"Aye, much to my wife's happiness for she always did love a red coat." Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows in the colonel's direction with a nod to the man's uniform. "She filled the girls with all sorts of silly notions . . . balls and proposals. When Colonel Forster and his wife invited Lydia to stay with them for the summer encampment, I assumed she would be perfectly safe under the commander's protection." Bitterness seasoned Mr. Bennet's last words as a brief expression of anger overtook the man's face. Mr. Bennet cast his glance to the fire and visibly adjusted his shoulders, as if shaking off the demons of rage.

Richard cautiously took a sip of his drink to buy time so his next question did not sound too eager. As the coals on the fire shifted from the bottom layer turning to ash, both men studied the grate to avoid each other.

"Your daughter was the particular guest of Colonel Forster and his wife? Wickham was so bold as to not only desert, but to take with him a woman under the protection of his commanding officer?" Richard asked, but Mr. Bennet had already said as much.

A cold, steely gaze met Richard's own as Mr. Bennet pressed his lips to a thin line. The man approached fifty, but in that frail moment of the father's greatest failure, a passerby might mistake him for nearing four-score in age. "I believe it is safe to say that filth Wickham holds no scruples at all. And that is why I hold no hope of my daughter's recovery."

Richard took a deep breath and set his drink down on the table, hardly half gone. He had duty later that day and did not wish to return to the barracks smelling strongly of drink for those who might press it to their advantage. Rising from his chair, Mr. Bennet offered Richard little more when a wave of his hand before turning his book back over as a sign of dismissal for the soldier so wholly unconnected to him.

Still, despite his misgivings about the father, Richard did care for Miss Elizabeth, perhaps more than was proper, but not more than she deserved. He felt he needed to declare his intentions to Mr. Bennet as he was the most proper to hear them even if they were not a responsibility he cared to hold.

"Thank you for your time, sir. I will begin my search for your daughter and Mr. Wickham after I have requested leave from my superiors. With your permission, I should like to call again when I have secured the freedom to look into the affair." Richard did not stand at full attention, but his foreboding presence made a slight impression upon Mr. Bennet in that he could not ignore the declaration outright.

The man looked over his spectacles and addressed Richard directly. "Suit yourself, Colonel, I am but a man with a book reported to by all sorts, it would appear, as to their plans. My eldest daughter has joined me and I expect her arrival again any moment. She, too, is searching I believe, though she comes up with a new excuse every day to go into town. Are you acquainted with her as well?"

Richard shook his head. "No, sir, I have not had the pleasure of meeting any of your daughters other than Miss Elizabeth. But I have heard very admirable recounts of Miss Bennet from her sister."

Mr. Bennet shrugged. "If you call again, and she is here, she may be able to tell you more about this sordid affair with Wickham. I still don't see how it will be of any help to you personally to conduct such a search, but I know better than to stand between a man and his plans, especially a military man. I suspect by the end of the week I shall be returning to Hertfordshire."

"You will not await your daughter and Mr. Darcy returning from Scotland?" Richard looked at the man, utterly confused. Darcy's letter had made it quite clear he and Miss Elizabeth were to marry, certainly that development had to have some bearing on Mr. Bennet, dedicated reader though the man may be.

"Young man, I hold a letter from your cousin with not a line written by my daughter's hand. I suspect my Lizzie will be returning with her aunt and have quite the story for me about the poor lovesick Mr. Darcy." Richard drew a sharp breath bringing another chuckle from Mr. Bennet. The older man touched the side of his nose. "You did not think I knew my daughter refused your cousin's proposal in Kent! My daughter Jane is ever dutiful, though she did not tell me this little intrigue until we left Longbourn. I suspect it was guilt."

Richard took a turn at pressing his lips into a fine line as he had little more to say to the exasperating man that was Mr. Bennet. Instead, Richard offered the man a bow and turned to open the door and show himself out. He was not entirely sure the Bennet family was at all deserving of the fuss and attentions of the Fitzwilliams nor especially his cousin, but he did know that Miss Elizabeth was entirely worthy of whatever help he could offer. And Bennets aside, the situation developing represented a much more complicated matter than any of them might know unless Richard found the couple and made them marry.

As Richard showed himself out of the study, he nearly crashed into the most beautiful creature he had ever set eyes on.

"Pardon me, miss?" The soldier remembered his manners as soon as he realized he was staring. "Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, at your service." He bowed low.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam?" The woman's voice surged with hope. "My sister spoke of you, I am Miss Jane Bennet." Jane looked furtively around for her father or uncle and not spying them, frowned. "Excuse me, Colonel, but why are you here?"

Remembering Mr. Bennet's words about not a line being in Elizabeth's hand, the Colonel hesitated. If Miss Bennet did not know to expect him, but her father did, it was likely Mr. Bennet did not share the letter from Darcy with his daughter. Whether he agreed with the denial of information or not, Richard wisely chose to give a half-truth and preserve a small amount of respect with the father of his aim.

"The military is looking into the matter. Lieutenant Wickham is a deserter and the King takes desertion very seriously."

Jane nodded. "Well, thank you, on behalf of my family."

Richard grimaced and Jane understood the look all too well.

"Please," she gently touched the sleeve of his coat, "do not judge him too harshly. He is devastated and it is making him ill."

With nothing more to say, Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded and took his leave of Miss Bennet, wishing her well and promising to do his best.

After Jane farewelled the Colonel, she watched him mount his horse and ride away through the window, wondering why Lizzie had never said how handsome Mr. Darcy's cousin looked.

Remembering her own mission was not over, Jane retreated back to the kitchens for a mid-day nourishment and then planned to go out once more in the afternoon. She yawned as she accepted the already made plate from the Cook the Gardiners employed, finding even with the carriage, the business of searching still required a great deal of walking. She smirked as she cut up the crust of bread and cheese thinking how better suited Elizabeth would have been for this part of the search, but then she would not have met Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Jane allowed herself to daydream through her meal until it was once more time to ask if anyone had seen a younger, dark-haired version of herself in the company of a soldier. If she was honest, even she was beginning to give up hope as another week passed with no sign of Mr. Wickham or Lydia.

All of the previous orders are in a new order than they were originally, and more changes are to come.

Oh and when I said Overboard was an inspiration, that's all I mean, an inspiration, an idea of how I could solve my plot dilemma. :) I would NEVER steal a whole storyline like Overboard or 50 First Dates and just rewrite it. This story, not just being in a different time period, will have all kinds of EAW-style drama in store.

Next up, sigh's ville... Cue the 80s song "Take my Breath Away"

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	22. Chapter 24

*** I apologize for the delay, it's been a fairly dark week for me. But I am fearlessly searching out joy, much like Jane Bennet in a later scene I am posting today. Be the light, that's my mantra.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

Sunlight from the high windows in the dining hall of Broadmeadow illuminated Elizabeth's face as she enjoyed her meal with her husband. The meal mimicked previous spreads of game and pastry, but the entire activity brought nothing but a smile to Elizabeth's face.

"You appear different today, Madam. In good cheer." Darcy tilted his head to one side and considered his wife's rosy complexion against the dark plum of her neckline. A deep blush began to spread along her clavicle at his compliment. He wondered if she would ask to go to Gretna Green to find her aunt or if she would remember some of what occurred the previous day.

"I would say that I am." Elizabeth paused to make sure she did not stutter. "Husband." Elizabeth's offered him half-crooked smile as Mr. Darcy dropped his silverware with a loud clatter.

"Do you mean to say that you remember?" he asked.

Elizabeth nodded and took a deep breath through her nose that set her shoulders in a straighter line. She released it and remained focused on Mr. Darcy, remember the letter had said how much her condition pained him.

"But that is astounding! Rowley predicted it might take weeks!" Darcy's empty hands reached over to grasp hers, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her open palms. Elizabeth giggled and looked behind her at the footman standing sentry along the wall. "Do not mind them; they are very loyal."

Elizabeth thought about the assistance her maid Fiona had offered in helping to restore her memory through letter, and she heartily agreed with Mr. Darcy's assessment.

"All of the Broadmeadow staff are beyond compare, sir. Although I have yet to meet the staff at your other homes, I have a feeling they are likely of the same caliber."

The happy couple merely stared at one another for a moment before Darcy's eyes lit up with a new inquiry. "And how did you like my gift?"

Elizabeth's breath hitched in her chest. "I enjoyed your gift very much." Inwardly, she panicked. Her letter to herself had made no mention of any gift from Mr. Darcy, and she prayed that he would not ask for further details. She wished to change the subject, but could not think of anything under such pressure and found this business of pretending to be well more ambitious than she had imagined.

"I know it might appear to be a castoff. If you'd like, I am happy to commission one of your own, but I think you will find very great use in me passing it down to you." Mr. Darcy took a bite of his meal and considered his wife carefully.

Elizabeth listened carefully for clues and dissected Mr. Darcy's language. He said he had passed it along to her; perhaps it was jewels?

"I agree. I shall find great use." Elizabeth's stomach curled at the need to playact. Her plate of stewed root vegetables appeared limp and unappetizing.

"It's been in my family for many years. My mother never traveled without the case."

Elizabeth brightened at the mention of Mr. Darcy's mother. He must be speaking of a jeweled set his mother owned that he gave to her yesterday, though why she did not write that down, she did not know. Either way, she charged herself with being well for Mr. Darcy's sake and she had to trust her yesterday self if the letter had carried her this far.

"I believe the jewels are the most spectacular settings I have ever seen."

Mr. Darcy blinked a few times with his face slackened when a moment ago he had been happy she appreciated the traveling secretary he gave to her. "The jewels?"

"Are you not speaking of a gift of jewels?"

"You have no recollection of what I'm speaking about, do you?" Mr. Darcy asked, no longer interested in his meal. Barely perceptible, Elizabeth shook her head. "So you have lied to me. You do not remember a thing!" His voice raised to a level that made her flinch.

"That is not true," she countered, quietly. "At least, I do not remember all."

Mr. Darcy scowled at Elizabeth as she looked down at her hands in her lap. He darted his hand out to seize his glass of wine and helped himself to a healthy gulp. Time ticked by as the footmen looked to one another, but none dared utter a word. This movement attracted Darcy's attention, and he lowered his voice to a rasp.

"I need your complete honesty. When you awoke this morning did you remember that we are wed?"

Again, Elizabeth's head very gently shook in the negative.

"Then why did you lead me to believe that you had? And who told you the particulars this morning? Was it that maid?" Mr. Darcy's anger at being played the fool returned an edge to his voice.

Elizabeth looked up with tears starting to fall from the corners of her eyes. She sniffed. "It was me. I told myself."

"What the devil?" Darcy grew bombastic at the riddle, but Elizabeth held up a hand to signal him to wait for an explanation. Stunned, he followed her gesture and waited.

"I wrote myself a letter last evening with all of the details I thought I might need to remember the next day. My illness is a great burden to you and has kept you in Scotland longer than you ever planned. And there is the matter of my sister in London–"

"And so you pretended to be fully recovered so that we might hurry to London." Mr. Darcy interrupted his wife.

"I did not, that is, I may have? I am not certain." Elizabeth's voice began to raise to match Mr. Darcy's volume as she too became frustrated with the entire situation. How had she ever agreed to marry this man when there was so little that they seemed ever to agree upon?

"I should like to see this letter."

"Certainly." Elizabeth tucked her hand into her gown's pocket and pulled the missive heavily creased from use despite its young age. After she handed the letter to Mr. Darcy to read, Elizabeth found she still held no appetite but picked at the edge of her roasted quail with the prongs of her fork. The gentle action of flaking the meat away from the bone placated her as silence fell over the room while Mr. Darcy read.

Mr. Darcy sighed as he refolded the letter and handed it back to his wife. Elizabeth looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

"I apologize for any amount of pressure I have placed upon you to feel that you must recover in haste. "

"No, but I –" Mr. Darcy shook his head, and Elizabeth ceased speaking.

"It is true there are very grave matters that we both must deal with in London, in good time. I have sent missives to your father and my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam; you do remember him?"

Elizabeth smiled, remembering for once a memory so easily from her past. She had admired Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam a great deal when she met him in Kent. "Yes! I do remember the Colonel. My older memories are not lost. And he is in London?"

A deep growl turned over in Darcy's stomach as he tried to ignore his wife's attitude to the mere mentioning of his cousin. "There is no other man I would trust with such a serious matter. Richard is searching for your sister and that cad as we speak. I suspect by the time we arrive in London he will not only have found your sister and Wickham but likely recovered the situation as much as it might hope to achieve."

Elizabeth frowned.

"What is it, dearest?" Mr. Darcy breathed more freely with the conversation settled into a calmer manner.

"I should write to my father."

Darcy nodded to encourage Elizabeth to continue.

"This is going to be very mean for me to say, but I fear his abilities may not shine to their best if he feels interference and he has lost control. My father can be very stubborn, and I suspect he takes a great deal of responsibility for the mess upon his shoulders."

"Oh?" Darcy asked as he lifted his drink to find occupation. He agreed with Elizabeth but knew better than to make that agreement eagerly and appear to be a slight against her father.

Elizabeth nodded. "I had tried to warn him, you see, about allowing Lydia to go to Brighton." Elizabeth watched as Mr. Darcy's body posture became more rigid and his knuckles turned white holding the stemware in his hands. "Do not worry, I said nothing about your sister." Elizabeth's assumption had been correct, and as soon as she reassured her husband that his family's privacy was not breached, Mr. Darcy visibly relaxed.

"If you would like to write your father, I shall be happy to send it express." Mr. Darcy did not add that they were running out of riders, and then felt further relieved as Elizabeth shrugged.

"There is no reason to send such a letter with such expense; I suspect you have likely sent many an express to London already at on my accord." Elizabeth watched her husband freeze his movements at the question. She arched her eyebrows.

"If I may not lie, sir, then neither shall you," Elizabeth smirked as her husband let out a breath and a single, pert nod. "Besides, if I shall write my father, I might as well write my mother." Mr. Darcy let out an involuntary groan, and Elizabeth broke out into a tinkling laughter. Darcy grimaced in apology but then he joined her in mirth

Gasping for breath as the stress and argument heightened her anxiety to breaking in a watershed of laughter, Elizabeth finally managed to speak.

"My exact sentiments," she howled as the dining room that had once been so tense now filled with the happy couple's companionship. Elizabeth found herself no longer wondering why she had married the man she so very often crossed. Their marriage would be one of challenge, but strong character and that was an assessment she could build a life upon.

"I promise," Mr. Darcy began in a solemn tone, "I promise as soon as you are well enough to travel, we will not hesitate to pack the coach and head to London. But if you are ever to be healthy enough to go, you must eat." Mr. Darcy's insistence on pointing at her plate made Elizabeth lose one last chuckle before finding her countenance. She felt a bit of mischievousness was still in order.

Elizabeth picked up her fork and scooped a healthy amount of the flaked quail she had produced earlier and noisily brought it to her mouth with a gulping sound. Mr. Darcy, deadpanning at the comedy his wife provided and knowing her manners in any other situation were beyond reproach, raised the stakes. In a show of utter solidarity, the man made a similar uncouth, noisy garble of his next mouthful and Elizabeth matched in kind.

Bite after bite, the young husband and wife enjoyed teasing each other with the most atrocious table manners the dining room at Broadmeadow had seen in a decade. But at the end, Elizabeth had eaten, and this pleased Mr. Darcy even if the speed in which they ate disrupted his digestion.

As the meal came to a close, Mr. Darcy invited Elizabeth to write her letters in his study with him.

"Do you have any objection to me also adding to the letter I wrote myself yesterday?"

Mr. Darcy stopped as they left the dining room, finding tremendous joy in the rights to gently touch the small of Elizabeth's back as her escort. "Dr. Rowley believes forcing you to recount lost memories will delay your recovery."

Elizabeth frowned, but then she spun around to face Mr. Darcy directly. "I worried something of the same, but my maid told me that I did not have a headache as I did the first morning nor did my gait suffer."

"You mean you once had difficulty walking?" Darcy gulped as he and Elizabeth now stood very close to each other, he could feel her body's warmth close to his.

"Did you not know?" Elizabeth asked gently.

"No. I am beginning to worry about this maid . . ." Darcy looked above him as if towards the bedrooms when Elizabeth placed her hands upon his chest.

"Please, no, she . . . I believe I may have given some orders over the last few days that I do not remember today, but she has followed them in faith. She could easily take advantage of a woman in my condition, and she has not."

Darcy peered down at Elizabeth's small hands still pressed against his coat, a slight pressure that naturally endeared her to him. He cleared his throat as Elizabeth, too, stared at her hands and then brought her gaze up.

"Fitzwilliam . . ." she tested his name.

"Elizabeth . . ."

Darcy bent his head down as Elizabeth stood on her tiptoes and equally tugged on the lapels of his coat. The two shared a kiss on their lips in the hall just outside the dining room, uninhibited by the staff scurrying around them working to remove the dishes.

When the kiss ended, Elizabeth returned her height to its normal stature and pressed her cheek against his chest as his arms naturally enveloped her.

"Could we . . ." she started to say but realized it was not something she could ask, not in the hallway nor even the privacy of a bedroom.

"Not until you are well."

For a moment, they briefly remained embraced before Darcy reluctantly released his wife.

Finding her nerve, Elizabeth found herself very curious about the feelings coursing through her veins from a simple kiss, her first kiss, that she could remember. Suddenly, the idea of going to Mr. Darcy's study, alone, sounded less like an activity to give either of them peace. She did not wish to say she would write her letters alone and hurt the man's feelings, but she did have another idea.

"I have not yet had occasion to see the grounds of Broadmeadow. Perhaps you would care to show me?"

Darcy inhaled through his nose and resumed his dignified manner of Master of the House. "It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Darcy. If you are feeling well enough for a stroll?"

Elizabeth glared at him in a way only the minxish Elizabeth Bennet had ever dared to do at Fitzwilliam Darcy. "Husband," Elizabeth pronounced, finding she did enjoy that moniker for him with its many subtexts, "did you forget you have married a very accomplished walker?"

"No, Madam. I have not," he said as he took his lady's arm and they walked towards the back door of the estate, the summer weather being fine enough for a short stroll in the gardens.

********  
Here we go, Elizabeth IS starting to recover, but how soon will our dear couple find sure footing? And what's happening in London . . .


	23. Chapter 21

The white door to General Hill's London headquarters opened and the second cousin of the Duke of Wellington looked up from his desk to the unexpected visit of one of his favorite officers. Returning to the dispatches in his hand concerning the Americans, General Hill pulled off his spectacles and rubbed his eye with a knuckle. He allowed Richard to come to full attention before his desk before addressing the the officer junior to him.

"Colonel, this is unusual. My secretary did not alert me I had a meeting today."

"No, sir. For the information I am about to give I did not wish for there to be any official record until you deemed it necessary." Richard had received an express from his cousin just that morning and did not wait to act.

General Hill put the dispatches into his top drawer and locked it. He opened his bottom drawer and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Spanish wine both he and the Colonel preferred from their time on the peninsula.

"Now you have me intrigued." The General poured the Colonel a drink and motioned to the chair beside his desk. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning."

"To begin with, I will be formally requesting another leave of absence for personal reasons, but my family business it would appear juxtaposes with the interests of His Majesty's Finest. There is a Lieutenant of the —shire militia that has deserted his post and in doing so eloped with the younger sister of an acquaintance of mine."

"Desertion is something I think the militia ought to be able to handle, this has no effect for those of us in the Regulars. Pardon your acquaintances to the woman's relations." The general bristled at the concern shown the nonprofessional soldiers that trooped in towns and villages, raising the overall morale of their glorious island, but would never see real combat that tried the mettle of a man's soul.

"Ordinarily, I would agree with you. The command happens to be one Colonel Forster's unit." Richard Fitzwilliam waited for the name to sink in to his superior's mind.

"Colonel William Forster?" The General clarified, not that there were many Colonel Forsters in either the regulars or the militia.

"The very same. And I'm afraid the young woman this lieutenant absconded with was a particular guest of the Colonel and Mrs. Forster when she was taken." Richard helped himself to a healthy mouthful of his wine waiting for the general's response.

"Wait just one moment. Are you insinuating the Colonel and his wife were derelict in their duties and allowed a young lady in their care to run off with a Lieutenant in the Colonel's own regiment?"

"That is what my sources have told me, and what I have been able to independently confirm as well."

The general sighed and knocked back the rest of his sweet wine more appropriate for desert than an early morning refreshment. "I don't know if you are aware, but William is my wife's nephew."

Richard cleared his throat. "I could pretend to have not known such a fact if it would please you, sir, but I think we're both smart enough to understand why I did not have this meeting officially in the logs."

"And how do you wish to proceed? If I am to understand it you are attempting to minimize the impact this wretched turn of events might bring upon the reputation of the militia and the Army."

Richard stood from his chair and returned to his stance of attention before the desk. "With your permission sir, my leave papers will say I need four weeks to attend to family business, but the real aim of my absence will be to find this Lieutenant Wickham and use whatever means necessary to inspire him to marry the girl. All reports so far confirm they did not leave London. If he has not already abandoned the girl, my task shall be an easy one."

"Wickham you say? That name sounds familiar."

Richard shifted his weight between his feet uncomfortably. It was no secret that all correspondence going to the men on the line was read by their superiors, and General Hill or one of his secretaries would have read the correspondence from Fitzwilliam Darcy to a Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam the summer Georgiana nearly ran off with the same man.

"Mr. Wickham grew up alongside myself and my cousin, a particular favorite of my Uncle Darcy who paid for his education. I believe it was my uncle's hope that the son of a steward might rise above his stars and make a decent man of himself. But the man's character was never made of the same strength and fiber as the upper classes."

General Hill frowned as he considered the Colonel's words. The problem was that to grant Richard another lengthy period of leave could become an equally tricky politic as his nephew's poor regulation of the —shire militia. But the post in Spain he struggled to fill . . . perhaps he could solve two problems at once.

"I appreciate your discretion in this manner, Colonel, but I do not discount that you appear to have a personal stake in this situation, so those being equal, ff you will consent to fill a post I am having trouble finding a volunteer . . . Hmm, Salamanca?"

Richard's eyes narrowed, but he remained in a respectful posture. "I was promised the teaching command here in London by Lord Wellington himself." Richard had only returned from the Peninsula just after Christmas, the very reason for his lengthy leave period in spring to visit his aunt despite a war being on.

"Yes, so consider the appreciation he will hold for his bravest Colonel to return to the front, so soon, though not really the front, it's well secure, you know. And you shall have more of our favorite wine." General Hill stood from his desk, signaling negotiation was over as to the terms. Richard sighed and nodded.

"There's the spirit, might even be a promotion for you at the end. Much more likely than school master here for the ragtag troops we muster up." General Hill walked around his desk and clapped Richard on the shoulder, giving further instructions about the leave papers to leave with his secretary.

Richard Fitzwilliam walked out of the General's headquarters with mixed emotions. He had hated the scars of the battlefield etched on his mind and held no great joy in returning to those nightmares. But they had won the fort of Salamanca last month, and it would be a promotion to hold command of the entire fort. In addition to the task of finding Wickham and his lady, another mission of greater distaste faced him still. How was he to tell his mother he would be leaving again so soon?

Poor Richard! But yes, military deployments are totally sporadic and as any military family can tell you, even if it's in writing, it ain't happening until it happens. Not leave, not moving, nothing. :) And I might be opening the door for a society lady to be a completely unsuitable match for the Colonel . . . hmmmmmmm. I wonder, I wonder.

::twiddles her fingers::

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	24. Chapter 25

I am posting chapters here as fast as I have them dictated and run through at least once. Everyone on my mailing list and in the Facebook group will get access to a free finalized copy before publication. My mailing list can be found on my website, and the Facebook group is Janeside.

The parlor of number twenty-three Gracechurch Street devolved into chaos. Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet argued over the newly arrived express from Mrs. Gardiner as the Colonel arrived with Jane Bennet.

"What's this, Colonel? Why are you with my daughter?" Mr. Bennet, angry at the news that Mrs. Gardiner had left Elizabeth alone in Scotland vented his spleen upon the unsuspecting soldier.

"Peace, I ran into Miss Bennet shortly after my interview with an associate of Mr. Wickham's. When I told her that I had news to share, I offered to escort her back to her uncle's house."

"Jane? Where were you when the Colonel found you?"

Jane Bennet gulped, knowing she was going to likely be in trouble for finally getting caught searching where she ought not. But lying was not an option. "Old Pye Street, Papa, near Westminster Abbey." The distance was well outside the mile or so radius Jane was permitted from Cheapside.

"How did you, whatever took you there, child?" Mr. Bennet scolded Jane as Mr. Gardiner and the Colonel eyed one another.

"What about this contact Colonel Fitzwilliam found? Perhaps we should discuss this to not take up anymore of his time." Mr. Gardiner interceeded on his niece's behalf, to the visible relief of Jane Bennet.

"I see what you are about. Distract me, eh? You spare this one from running further than she should and condemn Lizzie. " Mr. Bennet coughed and the others waited for his fit to stop. When he at last took a chair, Jane's bottom lip wobbled at the mention of her sister.

"What about Lizzie?"

"Your sister left her aunt to conduct the search on her own. Your aunt could not stay in Scotland and just wait to see if she would return. She took a footman and some funds your father gave her."

"Don't go blaming me! Your wife left an unmarried woman with little more than cab fare!" Mr. Bennet pointed a finger at Mr. Gardiner who's complexion reddened in frustration.

"She left money for the post-chaise." Mr. Gardiner countered. Again the two older men sparred over the new problem of a second lost Bennet daughter when the Colonel took a careful step closer to Miss Bennet. Just barely a whisper, he took a risk to help calm her nerves.

"I have it on good authority your sister, Elizabeth, is safe."

Jane startled at the closeness of the man as he took a step in front of her to interrupt the squabble.

"Gentlemen, I have achieved a small amount of success in finding a lead on Miss Lydia. Not only have I been permitted leave, but I have interviewed an associate of Mr. Wickham."

"And?" Mr. Bennet asked.

The Colonel took a seat, a stall for time. "This associate gave little information of a concrete sort, but there was almost as much in what she did not say as what she did."

"This was a woman who associates with Mr. Wickham?" Mr. Bennet's cynicism dripped from his every word.

"It's a very long story that involves secrets of people I am not at liberty to share. But suffice to say, yes, this woman has seen Mr. Wickham since he came to London but she has not seen your daughter."

Jane let out a cry then quickly covered up her mouth with both of her hands. Mr. Gardiner walked over to his niece to offer aid. But Jane had restored her emotions back under good regulation and shrugged off her uncle's concern

"No, it was a shock to hear, but I am well. If Mr. Wickham has abandoned Lydia this was information we most desperately needed to know. It does not mean we have to give up the search."

Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner shared an awkward glance between themselves and Mr. Bennet shook his head.

"I'm afraid, my child, it means the search has come to an end. Your sister is lost and the sooner we return to Longbourn and perform our sentence of shame, the sooner we might move beyond this costly turn of events."

Now it was the Colonel who was shocked, but years of battlefield experience prevented him from crying out like Miss Bennet. He merely made fists of his hands that he kept behind his back. "But Miss Elizabeth and my cousin Fitzwilliam, they are married and headed this way. Surely you would remain in London until then?"

Mr. Bennet shook his head and looked about for drink, but he had none. "I am certain Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth will stop at Longbourn on their way to London as it is north of here. There is no reason for me to remain here when I might receive my married daughter in my own home. Jane, we ought to prepare and leave in the morning." Mr. Bennet announced as such, but did not remove himself from his chair.

The room remained silent as all parties began to process the enormous amount of information in their possession. Lydia was lost. Elizabeth married. The Gardiner household might soon become visitor free so that it might return to a normal schedule. And then Jane spoke:

"With the permission of my uncle, I'm afraid I will not go with you, Papa, home to Longbourn. If Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are coming to London, I should like to receive them here and I believe," Jane gulped as she could not believe she was about to defy her father's wishes but could no longer remain silent as to fall victim to his lack of leadership, "I believe I shall have better chances of future happiness with opportunities the city might provide."

"Do not be preposterous, Jane. Your mother so relies upon you, stop this nonsense. Tomorrow we will be in a more familiar setting to digest this terrible news." Mr. Bennet did not pay Jane's defection any mind as a lifetime of experience had proven her to be a steady sort of daughter. Where the other four were prone to spells of emotion and fits, Janie had never so much as given her parents a moment's trouble.

"Papa, I do appreciate the compliment you pay me in regards to how I am a favorite of Mama, but I must think of the future. Lizzie will need me, and we still need to find Lydia. I will not give up the search." Jane Bennet's steely gaze gave her father much to think on, but he wisely kept his mouth closed. Even the colonel, having watched many a disagreement between his younger sister and their parents, marveled at the quiet power Miss Bennet held when she spoke her mind. Shaking off his admiration for the eldest Bennet daughter, Richard again had more to say.

"I do not mean to interfere with plans to return to Hertfordshire, but I do wonder if you might join me, Miss Bennet, in a visit to Darcy House after this discussion? I find I will have need to speak about many difficult matters with Mr. Darcy's sister, Georgiana, and I should greatly like to have a relative of Miss Elizabeth with me to help soothe the news."

"Uncle, may I take Sarah with me?" Jane asked nicely of Mr. Gardiner who nodded.

Mr. Gardiner did not speak further as he calculated with Jane leaving the house he could work upon Mr. Bennet to overcome his lack of interest in finding Lydia.

"Thank you, Colonel, if you will grant me a few moments I shall ready myself for the journey." Jane stood and gave a cursory bow of her head to her father, uncle, and finally, the colonel, locking eyes with the man when she finally looked up. The man offered her a slight upturn of his lips and Jane reciprocated in kind before quitting the room.

As Jane climbed the stairs to her room to change her bonnet, gloves, and spencer, as her attire had been dressed down for the search, but would not put her at her best, she wondered how much more information she might pull from the Colonel during their journey? She was not certain, but there appeared to be more the man knew of the situation with Lydia and Wickham and Jane hoped to get to the bottom of it. If need be, she would emulate her sister Lizzie more and more as it appeared to work just fine in the parlor and no one was going to make her return to Longbourn.

In spite of the immense insecurities still weighing heavily upon her shoulders, Jane Bennet caught herself smiling in the looking glass of the room as she pulled on her gloves. This would very likely be her future, day after day of setbacks but never surrendering. She would take comfort in the tiny pieces of joy that life still offered.


	25. Chapter 29

A birdsong woke Elizabeth Darcy on her fourth morning at Broadmeadow. She tugged the covers closer, over her shoulder and snugged down deep into the warmth with a content heart of knowing exactly where she was and that she was married to Mr. Darcy. Her eyes threatened to flutter closed, but the reminder that she was married to Mr. Darcy sent a jolt of energy through her bones. Frantically, she struggled to remove herself from the bed as fast as she could manage.

Her bedroom door opened and a young maid carried in a tray of food, nearly dropping the heavy silver platter to spy her mistress leaning with one arm playfully holding the bed post.

"Good morning, Fiona!"

"You know my name!"

"And mine! I am Elizabeth Darcy!" Elizabeth covered her mouth as she giggled and the joy filled her all the way down to her feet. She looked down and wiggled her toes in her slippers.

Fiona busied herself with the domes and coverings of Elizabeth's preferred meal but her mistress would have none of it. Elizabeth dashed to her closet to rummage for a robe, and upon finding a silken treasure in pale blue, she slipped it on and rushed past her maid out the door.

"Mrs. Darcy!" Fiona called, but her mistress was already in the hall looking in both directions.

Here, Elizabeth stood perplexed. She had never actually gone to Mr. Darcy's rooms and supposed they must be to the right of hers deeper into the same wing of the house instead of past the staircase and in a separate wing, altogether.

"Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth knocked on doors in a manner befitting a child playing a game of Sardines. "Which door?"

Elizabeth paused before a set of double doors that matched the two to enter her suite and she figured this must be correct. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she turned the handles and let herself inside to find the tall frame of Mr. Darcy standing near the window, his back to her.

"There you are!"

Elizabeth's voice shook Darcy from his perfect posture as his valet's hands dropped the ends of his cravat. Fitzwilliam turned around in time to meet Elizabeth who had strolled confidently into his room, wrapping the robe more tightly around her as she began to rethink her boldness with each step.

Despite his cravat remaining untied, Darcy bowed. "Madam. I was not aware I was expected to be elsewhere." Darcy turned his face up so that Mr. Stewart could return to his business.

Elizabeth watched, fascinated, as the valet's hands whipped around Mr. Darcy's neck and tied the eloquent knot in less time than it took Elizabeth to tie her bonnet.

When the valet removed his hands, Darcy turned to the full length mirror and satisfied with the outcome, instructed Mr. Stewart to leave them. The silent valet nodded and hastened out of the room, making sure to close the doors behind him with a thud that reminded Elizabeth of where she had ventured.

"Did you read your letter this morning?" Mr. Darcy asked Elizabeth as he casually took a seat in the chair near to his bookshelf, inviting Elizabeth to join him in the small sitting area of the room.

Elizabeth gawked at the masculine contrast to her own room; the walls were papered in a deep, burgundy with solid wood wainscoting all the way around. The furnishings were not of the Queen Anne style in her room, but more rugged, solid. She struggled for an adjective to describe them when he repeated his question.

"Elizabeth? Did your letter aid you this morning?"

"Oh, no," she finished her inspection of the room, purposely not giving his bed a closer consideration and returned her attentions to him. "That is why I rushed here. I remembered without my letter!"

Darcy sat up stiffly in his chair as if to pounce upon his wife, but recalled his false hope yesterday. "You are being truthful? You did not read the letter this morning?"

Elizabeth shook her head and rocked back on her heels. "I woke up and knew instantly this was Broadmeadow, and Fiona's name, " she began to enumerate on her fingers all of her memories, "and that I am Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy!"

His wife's joy being contagious, Darcy finally did lift up out of his seat and crushed her smaller form to his.

"This is astonishing news! But truly of the best nature!" He held her out from him and rubbed her upper arms vigorously as if she were chilled, making Elizabeth giggle at the man without a clue as to how to treat her.

"I am well. And I am ever so sorry how much pain it must have caused you, to marry a woman who could not remember. . . " Elizabeth's voice trailed off as she tried to recall actually marrying Mr. Darcy, but the memory was a false one. She could imagine what it might have looked like, but actual recollection did not exist.

"What? What is it? You suddenly look concerned." Fitzwilliam stared deeply into her eyes with his own so full of fear.

"I am afraid that I only remember yesterday."

"I see." Darcy dropped his hands from his wife's body as if he had been scalded.

"That is, I cannnot- I can't remember the actual moment when we were married!" Elizabeth began to panic and looked to Mr. Darcy for support, but he appeared to be just as lost and panicked as she. "Fitzwilliam?"

Hearing her say his name soothed over Darcy's fears like thick honey from the end of the season. He pulled Elizabeth back into an embrace as she prattled on and on about what she could remember, almost everything from yesterday including their argument, and what she could not. Any event from before yesterday up to the carriage accident did not have a memory in her mind.

"But it's not fair! Why? Why can I remember such a horrid experience as the carriage accident but not the moment in which we wed?"

Darcy rested his chin on the top of her head, spying them as a couple in his full-length mirror on the far wall. If there ever was a more perfect proportion for husband and wife, he did not know of one.

"Dr. Rowley warned it might be the whisky to blame."

"Whisky? Yes, my letter yesterday did say something about that."

Darcy laughed as Elizabeth's voice suddenly sounded calm and calculating. He released his wife and suddenly lost his thoughts as he realized she had never dressed for the day. As Elizabeth gathered the neckline of her robe closer together under his careful gaze, Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and willed himself to behave in a more proper fashion.

"Have you eaten?"

Elizabeth shook her head and he clucked his tongue in disapproval.

"Why do you not dress and break your fast? I will send word for the doctor to come, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But I feel well today."

"Yes, one day of recovery. Forgive me for not fully believing your miraculous restoration. I believe another night's sleep to see if your memory fades is in order before we trouble Dr. Rowley."

"What a sensible plan." Elizabeth said, flatly. She did not wish to interview with a physician twice in the span of one week, but it could not be avoided. She did not care for the delay, either. "And when will we go to London?"

Darcy cocked his head to one side, aghast that his wife still only cared about leaving Scotland. As his face began to redden, Elizabeth twisted her mouth into a sign of annoyance.

"No, sir, do not renew that argument. You promised when I was well, we would leave immediately for London."

Still piqued, Darcy uttered that if the doctor examined her and found her of sound body and mind to travel, then they would make preparations.

Elizabeth tilted her chin down and flicked her eyes upward as she recognized Mr. Darcy no longer appeared to be in high spirits. But she didn't feel particularly happy, either.

"In the meantime, perhaps you should chop wood until you find a better mood." With a pert nod, Elizabeth Darcy walked away from her husband who could only stare after her with his mouth open in shock.

If she remembered him chopping wood, then she held memories not in her letter she wrote herself last night. This time he assisted her with writing the "remember this" note so he knew the contents and could not be fooled once more. And if she recovered so much as to remember yesterday, then perhaps at long last his greatest dream of loving Elizabeth Bennet could come true!

After waiting a moment for his wife to reasonably reach her bedroom and for his ardor to calm, Darcy walked out of his room and nearly crashed into poor Callum Stewart.

"My apologies, sir." The valet had waited in the hall to anxiously complete his morning duties, again finding the disruption of routine most vexing.

"Oh, yes, I suppose very soon we shall need to alter our arrangements with Mrs. Darcy prone to be in my company at any moment. Perhaps I should begin calling you in the morning from the pull."

"I believe that wise," Mr. Stewart agreed with his employer. While the entire house knew of the lack of nocturnal activities between the mistress and the master, the valet knew such matters would soon find resolution. And the last thing he wished was to come upon Mrs. Darcy in a state of undress.

"Right, and please relay that information to Miss Grace." Mr. Darcy called over his shoulder as he attacked the steps in a half jog to arrive at his study in double-speed. He never even sat at his desk to quickly pen a missive to Jamie to come tomorrow. It was now a matter of love or denial and Darcy so deeply hoped it would not be a denial.

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She remembers . . . well, sort of... poor Darcy. ::devilish smile::


	26. Chapter 26

Richard had not brought a carriage to Gracechurch Street and so they borrowed the Gardiner coach for the two mile journey to Grosvenor Square where Darcy's town home resided. The arrangements made while Jane readied herself for the visit, the carriage would return once they arrived at Darcy house and a Darcy carriage would bring Jane back.

"Miss Bennet, please forgive my forwardness but there is vital information I must impart and then, after you have listened, I fear I have a great favor to ask."

Jane startled at the abruptness of a man so recently in her acquaintance. She had expected this would take far more conversation and subtlety to learn more of what the colonel knew of her sister. As Jane reflected on that truth, she realized it was now two sisters that she needed intelligence from this new acquaintance and so she heartily nodded in agreement to his request.

"Mr. Wickham nearly absconded with a woman in my family just last summer and it was Fitzwilliam who put an end to the attempted elopement. The woman employed as my relation's companion is the associate I saw today and I was not entirely truthful about how much information she knew."

Suddenly, Jane began to fret as to the nature of the additional information the colonel held. Did he know good news or bad news about her sister, Lydia? Jane's mouth felt dry as she worked up the courage to ask him to continue.

"I am very sorry to hear of what happened to your family member. Please, do go on."

Further impressed by the mettle of Jane Bennet, Richard began to feel more confident in his plan.

"I need to confirm the location of your sister as it appears that Wickham has sold her to a house for the amusement of gentlemen. Forgive my vulgarity, but are you aware of such establishments?"

Feeling ashamed, Jane looked down at the floor of the carriage and gave a single nod to convey that she did know of such houses of ill-repute, but for a lady to ever speak of such was below her station and so she found herself unable to do so.

"I suspected you might be aware of that possibility when you stated you wished to continue the search for your sister. If I find a way to confer the location of your sister, would you be brave enough to go with me in an attempt to recover her?"

Jane's head snapped up to attention and the fierceness of protection for her foolish sister flashed in her eyes. "I would do anything to save my sister from her folly, but I am afraid my father will never pay the handsome amount I am to understand those houses require?"

"This is why I saved our discussion for the carriage. Your father need not know nor put up any funds."

Jane suddenly understood. "Mr. Darcy has paid for this?"

Richard laughed in spite of himself. "You are as quick as your sister. No, no please do not take it as a criticism," Richard began to save himself as Jane scowled. "I enjoyed many a conversational battle with your sister when we were in Kent. And yes, my cousin does have his uses, usually arising from his infinite purse. But there is more afoot here other than your family's salvation. There are many others who are quite keen to see Mr. Wickham find justice. If we can find your sister, we may have more information to find him."

Jane looked at Sarah who tried to look away as if she were not present in the carriage. In her sternest voice, Jane gave a warning. "You may tell your employer of our plans, but I entreat you not to speak anything to my father. Can I rely upon you?"

The young maid Sarah nodded and Jane took it at face value. "I do not wish to be a burr in your saddle," Jane offered a metaphor she thought the colonel might enjoy as a member of the cavalry. "While I am eternally grateful our aims are to recover my sister, would not it be easier to find Mr. Wickham through the previous associate of the companion?"

Richard raised his eyebrows as he had grossly underestimated Miss Bennet's mind for strategy. "I have men watching her house as we speak, but Wickham is a slippery eel. It is unlikely he will return back to her friendship if he has already partaken of her company in town and was not there when I visited."

"I see." Jane said as the carriage began to slow in Mayfair. Jane grit her teeth as the most uncharitable thoughts and descriptions of Mr. Wickham began to flood her heart and she tightened her hold upon the reticule in her lap. Richard noticed the change in Miss Bennet's demeanor and began to feel poorly to see a lady in such distress.

"Miss Bennet?" He attracted the lady's attention as the carriage rolled to a complete stop. "We shall save your sister. There is no difference to me as to her value and worth as a member of my family. Do not forget your sister is now married to my cousin."

"Thank you. I believe Lizzie may indeed be the one who has saved us all." Jane said earnestly as Richard gave her a nod in agreement and exited the carriage so that he might offer assistance to Miss Bennet.

Outside of the carriage, Jane marveled at the distinct differences between where Mr. Darcy lived in London and her aunt and uncle. She had come to this part of London for a few exhibits over the years and once for the delivery with her uncle to a fabric shop, though she had remained in the carriage when he conducted his business. The marble columns of the grand homes appeared as long, disappointed faces as Jane followed the colonel up the stone steps to Mr. Darcy's house. Giving Jane a roguish smile, Richard Fitzwilliam opened the door without knocking and called out boisterously as they entered.

"Is there a fair-haired maiden in residence?"

Jane tentatively stepped inside of the doorway as a young woman parted the double doors of the front parlor.

"Richard!" The young woman rushed into the entryway and greeted her cousin in the mirth and excitement of a woman her age. Georgiana Darcy's eyes lit up as she noticed her cousin brought a visitor. Immediately, Georgiana dipped into a small curtsy and Jane responded in kind. "Who have you brought to visit?"

"May I present Miss Jane Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire." Richard made the formal introductions and both ladies expressed a gratitude in meeting one another.

Richard looked above Georgiana's head into the stirrings of the parlor and found himself perplexed. "Dearest, are you entertaining?"

Georgianna's eyes widened as she had completely forgotten about her guests. "Yes, Miss Bingley and Mr. Bingley are here. They have received a letter from brother? Oh, Bennet!" Georgianna's mind jumped from one fact to the other as she suddenly realized that the woman with her cousin shared the same surname as the woman said to have married her brother. Richard chuckled.

"Yes poppet, this is Miss Elizabeth's older sister, Jane. She is in London visiting her relations and I thought it might be wise to bring her to meet you as we all have such happiness to share." Richard's jaw involuntarily tensed as he could not discuss the sensitive matters of Wickham and the lost Bennett sister with the Bingleys in the home

"Mr. Bingley is – is – here?" Jane stuttered as she tried to remain unaffected by the name.

"I believe you know the Bingleys well because my brother mentioned you had fallen ill at his home did you not? But you are better now I see." Georgiana accidentally provided the missing puzzle piece for Richard as the situation turned from inconvenient to an absolute disaster.

Richard realized now that Jane must have been the woman Darcy rescued Bingley from last autumn. He clapped his hand over his face and dragged it down as he realized how stupidly he must have sounded in Kent. Darcy never mentioned what offenses Elizabeth laid at his feet when she denounced his proposal apart from Wickham's lies and Richard suddenly began to think he had played no small part in the woman's justified anger.

"Miss Bennet, if you would rather not see them, I can escort you to Darcy's study until the Bingleys have been encouraged to leave." Richard said very quietly as Georgiana frowned.

Jane gave the military man a careful look deep into his eyes. Just as Jane was about to tell the colonel she was perfectly happy to go visit with the Bingleys, a shrill voice from the doorway of the parlor called out.

"Miss Bennet! Miss Bennet! How wonderful it is to see you, why it's been nearly six months since we last saw you when we left Hertfordshire." Caroline Bingley smugly smiled, attempting to begin the narrative she desperately wished to be true.

Jane stepped forward, no longer worried about sparing Miss Bingley any embarrassment. "You are mistaken, Miss Bingley, I called upon you and your sister here in London in January."

Behind his sister, a curious Charles Bingley appeared as a child finding a lost favorite toy. "Miss Bennet! How peculiar to see you here."

Tired of shouting from the entryway, Richard used his hand to gesture that perhaps they ought to all enter the parlor.

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That _ Caroline Bingley . . . lol. Don't worry, I'm working for not just an HEA for Elizabeth but also for Jane.


	27. Chapter 27

I am int he part of writing where I just have to plug on. Please forgive any typos, I promise they will be fixed later on, just gotta get the story OUT. I call this the WHOOOSH part of writing a story. All of the action is HAPPENING!

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

Not five minutes passed for the Bingleys, Richard, Miss Bennet, and Miss Darcy before another visitor was announced by the butler.

Richard's mother, Lady Matlock, stood in the doorway of the parlor inspecting the motley gathering of souls in her nephew's parlor with a look of dismay. Her niece and son she recognized, but the other inhabitants, one appearing utterly foreign and the other two vaguely familiar, was not the situation she intended to find when she left her house to track down down her wayward son for a tongue lashing.

"Mother!" Richard swiftly left Jane's side to greet her with a peck on her cheek. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I thought I should like to speak to my son, as I have learned he has taken leave but not moved back home. And so where do I find you, at your cousin's home. By the by, where is Darcy?" Lady Matlock looked around to spy that her nephew was indeed missing.

"He is in Scotland, Aunt. He left to check on the house at Broadmeadow and has not returned as it appears he also found a wife." Georgiana giggled until the gasps of both Lady Matlock and Caroline Bingley when she abruptly ceased, confused over the negative reactions.

"You mean Darcy has married?" Mr. Bingley asked Georgiana and Richard, before finally resting his eyes upon Jane with a look of great longing. "And who is the lucky bride, do I know her?"

"My sister," Jane said quietly looking down at the golden striped upholstery of the settee she inhabited. Her utterance attracted the notice of Lady Matlock who inspected the demure woman up and down, finding her fashion and styling to be rather plain but beautiful in a classical sense. Lady Matlock compared the sister of Mr. Darcy's bride to the other mysterious woman in the room. But she did not tarry long on the other woman's attire; the bright satins and gaudy jewels and feathers clashed in a manner unbefitting a day dressing. With a slight sneer from the fashion assessment, she returned her attention to a woman declared her relation now by marriage.

"Excuse me, but who might you be?"

"Jane Bennet, my lady. Of Longbourn in Hertfordshire."

Caroline Bingley snorted at Jane Bennet's declaration of her heritage, drawing the ire of Lady Matlock.

"Is there something amiss with where Miss Bennet is from?"

"No, milady, only that her cousin is to inherit the entire estate upon their father's death."

"Is this true, Richard?" Lady Matlock began a more in-depth interview with both her son and Miss Bennet as Caroline Bingley plastered a false smile of innocence on her face. She received a sharp elbow from her brother as he stepped forward to defend the Bennet family further to the distinguished lady.

After some time, Lady Matlock appeared placated that the Bennet line was an ancient barony stretching back to the Tudor years and only the recent generation suffered a dirth of sons. Feeling panicked that the conversation again began to go in Jane's favor, Caroline wondered how that upstart, Elizabeth Bennet, had even been in Scotland to marry Mr. Darcy? Since no one brought up what she considered to be a very salient point, Caroline decided to bring the subject up herself.

"However was Miss Eliza in Scotland? I was not aware your family held any holdings there, up north." Caroline Bingley spoke, and all eyes turned to Jane.

Richard held his breath as he hoped that Jane would not reveal the actual nature of Elizabeth's journey. But he need not worry; the eldest Bennet sister held more than her fair share of wits.

"My sister accompanied my aunt on a trip to the Lake District and beyond. But there was an accident and Elizabeth fell hurt. Mr. Darcy was kind enough to see to Lizzie's care, and we have been told that they decided to marry over the anvil." Jane said, unable to put hope into her last part of her statement. The room remained quiet as the more senior members of the party realized the ramifications of such an elopement, but Georgianna in her youth sighed audibly.

"A carriage accident and a secret marriage? It is all so romantic, and I know Brother has admired Miss Elizabeth since last autumn."

"Since last autumn?" Lady Matlock said in an exasperated tone as she finally took a seat in a single chair by the fire. "Richard, what do you know of this business? Has Darcy been enamored all this time with no mention to his family?"

Richard felt ashamed for what he was about to say, but he had to lay the beginnings of a misdirection if there was to be any hope for Miss Lydia. "Indeed, my cousin proposed marriage to Miss Elizabeth in the spring and I am not so sure they did not make their plans then." Richard lied as Jane pressed her lips into a fine line. She did not wish to reveal that even she knew her sister Elizabeth had rejected Mr. Darcy's first proposal. Deep in her soul, Jane worried as to the circumstances under which Elizabeth accepted Mr. Darcy's hand. She hoped it was a match Elizabeth found joy in and not something she entered into as an act of desperation.

"OHO! Darcy has loved Elizabeth Bennet, you say, and yet he told me –" Mr. Bingley stopped speaking as he caught the eye of Jane who gave him a fierce stare, "that is I listened to, and, well it's just unbelievable he would not speak a word of this to me."

"Perhaps Miss Elizabeth did something to trap him. She was always taking unchaperoned walks and finding every reason to argue with Mr. Darcy when we were at Netherfield" Caroline Bingley's tongue spewed the vitriol routinely filling her thoughts, but she forgot her audience.

"Do not speak ill against my sister." Jane Bennet's threat did not require a raise of her voice. The sharp tone so drastically contrasted with her more peaceful manners that the entire room felt the icy promise laced within those words.

"Well, I have not said anything untrue, none of us in this room know how the marriage came about. And it is quite shocking, to say the least." Caroline Bingley attempted to cover up her overstep.

"Do you mean to say you do not believe my son's word on this matter?" Lady Matlock challenged Caroline Bingley who began to stutter as she had no words for the great lady. Realizing there was an undercurrent to her son and this Jane Bennet, Lady Matlock touched her hands to her temple and claimed a headache. Surreptitiously, she winked at Georgiana, a signal she had taught the young woman about company. Thankfully, Georgiana Darcy took up the hint and regained control of the situation as hostess.

"Well Miss Bingley, Mr. Bingley, it was so good of you to call. It would appear that our plans to go to Pemberley have changed. As soon as I hear more from my brother I will be happy to pass the information along to you. But I believe you have another engagement?" Georgiana expertly declared the Bingleys were no longer welcome without so much of an insult. Mr. Bingley began to make his expressions of gratitude as he walked towards the door, practically dragging Caroline by the elbow. When he came to Miss Bennet, he paused and addressed her directly.

"I am so very sorry that I must leave so soon after seeing you once more. I often think fondly of my time in Hertfordshire."

In another time, Jane Bennet's heart would have beat wildly at the thinly veiled compliment from Mr. Bingley. But he did not know the perilous situation the Bennet family lingered in and hearing his sister's vulgar accusations against her sister Elizabeth further hardened her heart.

"If you miss that country as you say, sir, perhaps you will find reason to return."

"And will you be finding a reason to return soon?" Mr. Bingley asked with his voice cracking from hope.

Jane pursed her lips in a slight pout of sympathy. Just barely, she shook her head in the negative.

"I believe I will be remaining in London at least until my sister and Mr. Darcy return."

Caroline Bingley felt so affronted that they were summarily dismissed but not Jane Bennet, she barely took leave of anyone in the room. "Come, Charles, Louisa will be waiting for us."

Georgiana followed the Bingleys to the entryway to ensure their carriage had been called.

Once the Bingleys had left the room, Lady Matlock grasped the worsted wool sleeve of her son's jacket so that he had to pay her direct attention.

"Do we need to send Georgiana to her room or can we all speak as adults?"

Richard winced. "It's best if we all speak together, I believe. There is a much darker part of this tale, and as her guardian, I would not deny Georgiana the truth. She is old enough."


	28. Chapter 28

I always love writing a Lady Matlock . . .

XOXOX

Elizabeth Ann West

Regina Fitzwilliam, the Countess of Matlock, sat in the wingback chair next to the fire as if it were a throne. Distinguished in a fine cut of cloth, superbly coiffed gray hair, and the aquiline nose of many a noble, she was remarkably spry for her fifty years of age. Her acquaintances would attribute Ginny's physical prowess to her love of a hobby she shared with her second son: horses.

When Georgiana returned to the room, Lady Matlock wasted no time in practically ordering her niece back out of it.

"Georgiana, please order us some refreshments and Miss Bennet, dear? I do not care to shout across the room. Come sit over here and let us figure out what vexes both you and my son."

Jane Bennet immediately complied with her better, but she tried to complain that all was well.

"In fact, my lady, I am finding my visit to Darcy House very pleasant."

Lady Matlock laughed. "Child, you are a beauty, I will grant you that. But you are a wretched liar, now tell me more about your sister, Elizabeth. And once the refreshments have arrived, Richard can explain what that wicked man Wickham has to do with all of this."

"Mr. . . . Mr. Wickham?" Georgianna stuttered as she dragged her slippered feet across the floor, the door closed once more as she had informed the staff to make tea.

Lady Matlock waved her arms and the jewels on her fingers flashed in the afternoon's sun. "Do not play maudlin, young lady, or I shall send you to your room like a child."

Georgiana Darcy stiffened her upper lip and nodded.

"Mother, how do you know Wickham has anything to do with this?"

Lady Matlock furrowed her brows at her son as she pointed a long, slender finger to the chair across from her now that Jane and Georgiana sat on the sofa next to her. "Lady Digby called at the earliest fashionable hour, in a panic about her nephew. Said her husband had placed the charge in your hands."

"But that was just this morning!"

"And bad news travels faster than good. So what would you have me do?" Lady Matlock frowned at her son as a knock on the door announced the refreshments had arrived. Once the table in their small seating arrangement filled with platters of sandwiches and biscuits and Georgiana served the tea in the correct order of precedence, first her aunt, then her cousin, and then her guest, and finally herself, the conversation continued.

"I am not certain this topic will aid in digestion, but you leave me with no choice, Mother. Jane and Elizabeth's youngest sister is the young woman Lady Digby is so concerned about. I have a lead on where we might find her, but I need to confirm the information with a contact."

"Then do so! The Digbys are annoying, but we cannot run the risk of irking the Duke!"

Jane's head whipped furiously back and forth between Richard Fitzwilliam and his mother. She understood some of what he had said, but why was this Lady Digby concerned, and how had a Duke come to be involved?

"Pardon me, but I am afraid I am terribly lost. Why is her ladyship concerned about my sister?" Jane's stomach lurched as she feared far too many knew the truth of her family ever to allow this scandal to remain hidden or fade away.

Lady Matlock placed her spoon down on the side of her cup just so and smoothed her hands across her serviette. "Your sister was staying with Lady Digby's nephew and his wife when she was kidnapped."

Jane began to correct the notion that Lydia was an unwelcome participant but the grand lady shook her head.

"It is not a salient point. Wickham will hang for his crimes of desertion." Picking up her tea cup, Lady Matlock drank from the hot beverage as if she had been mildly discussing the weather.

"So he will die?" Georgiana fretted, and Richard reached over to grasp his cousin's hand.

"He is a scoundrel and a cad. He did not have to desert his post, but he chose to do so, and the Devil be too good for a coward."

"Richard . . . language."

Richard offered his mother a small concession of appearing guilty for a moment.

"Now, what is your plan, son. I gather that you have a plan. When do you go see this contact of yours?"

Richard Fitzwilliam flashed his mother a smile he reserved for the moments when he most needed her benevolence. As a child, it would earn him an extra treat over his brother and sister. As a man, an extra pound or two in his allowance, or invitation to a ball he fancied.

"Miss Bennet, did you bring a gown suitable for a trip to the theater?"

The coloring from Jane's face drained and for once, Georgiana realized she could help instead of merely be the child in the room. "Oh, do not worry, I have many that my maid can take up an inch or two and will fit you splendidly!"

"Honestly, Richard. You wish to go to the theater? You despise the theater, and I must always jostle you awake lest your snores embarrass the entire family."

"Ordinarily, yes, Mother, but tonight there is a particular woman I must meet. And she never misses a performance of Henry Garrick."

"The actor? Yes, he is to play Hamlet tonight, if I am not mistaken."

"Then to Darcy's box we go, I do not think the old man will mind." Richard lifted his teacup and took a drink, scowling as he wished it was something a might stronger.

"Nonsense. We shall sit in the Fitzwilliam box and Miss Bennet, dear, you shall sit next to me."

Jane thanked Lady Matlock for her consideration and Georgiana for the loaned gown. She expressed that she would need to write of her change in plans to Gracechurch Street which brought little more than a nod from any of them.

Forcing herself to put on a good show and eat, Jane remembered her promise to the Colonel that if he found information about Lydia, she would follow him to the house to rescue her. But she didn't dare bring up that plan as Richard and Lady Matlock discussed arrangments for a dinner to provide a united front about Darcy's marriage.

When Jane spared a look to her right and Georgiana Darcy nodded her head with a broad smile, she began to feel stronger. All of the moving parts of their scheme, the plan to rescue Lydia, the need for legitimacy to Mr. Darcy's elopement, and the intention to mask Lydia's 'kidnapping' with the story that she left in aid of Elizabeth in Scotland, felt tedious and tenuous at best when individually considered. But the manner in which Lady Matlock and her son discussed every point with military precision gave Jane hope. Somehow, this great collusion and revision of the truth was going to happen. Jane paid closer attention at the mentioning of the Bingleys.

"I apologize, but I did not follow. We shall dine with the Bingleys?"

"Yes, Miss Bennet, after Richard recovers your sister, we shall begin the dissemination of information that she left the Forsters to aid Elizabeth in her elopement."

"I understand the reasoning, but why the Bingleys?"

"Because Miss Bingley will tell everyone!" Georgiana Darcy answered, looking to her aunt for approval. The elder woman tucked her lower lip below her top and beamed at a younger version of herself.

"And my daughter, Olivia. Lady Olivia will spread the word as well as Lady Digby. Then we reveal Lydia only once Mr. and Mrs. Darcy have returned, and voila, the truth will have nary a chance to catch up."

Jane nodded and finished her tea now cold from the lengthy discussion, not willing to counter either strategist at the table. But in her calculations, there was one variable she had not heard mentioned, yet, and that was the capture of Mr. Wickham. 

They've got quite a complicated plan going on there . . . gee, I wonder what could possible go wrong? Next up, we go to Scotland.


	29. Chapter 31

"If I hear correctly, you desire for the menu to remain the same, Mrs. Darcy? The lads would not mind slaughtering another lamb." Mrs. Aldridge attempted to persuade Mrs. Darcy in her first interview with the mistress of the home regarding the operations of Broadmeadow.

Mrs. Darcy, being all that was kind and hospitable in a lady of the house, entertained her housekeeper in a sitting room she discovered just that morning. Furthermore, Elizabeth would brook no disagreement with the housekeeper about ordering refreshments. The upstairs sitting room that attached to her rooms cast a calming hue of blue from the decor of Ming vases, watercolor paintings and soft fabrics on the walls and upholstery. Starkly contrasting with the decor of the rest of the house, this room could just as easily be transplanted to a fashionable country home in England or a town home in London.

Thus far Elizabeth had bent to the opinions of her housekeeper on the topics of an increase in the maids' cloth allowances and the need to hire extra staff for an ambitious maintenance period in the autumn Mr. Darcy had already devised. On the last topic, though, Elizabeth believed she more agreed with her husband than her housekeeper, though the man was not present and she felt his absence acutely.

Still, she had to assert herself somewhere.

"I have enjoyed every meal so far, and I believe my husband would say the same. I do not wish to trouble you or the Cook. It is my hope we will be leaving for London in the morning." Elizabeth sighed as a new feeling of dread began to cloud her ambition to hasten for London as soon as she could convince Mr. Darcy to load the carriage.

Her interview with Dr. Rowley went well earlier in the afternoon, and she distinctly heard the man tell her husband that if they both wished to leave in the morning, he could see no reason why she must rest further if her only symptoms were now a loss of memory after a night of drinking. She had wished to pursue the point with Fitzwilliam, but the two men made plans to ride together after she was declared well. She understood Fitzwilliam so dearly loved to ride and had curtailed the habit due to her illness, but she still worried after him riding out with Dr. Rowley as far as the edge of the estate.

Mrs. Aldridge looked down briefly at her notes that she had brought to her meeting, a safeguard against her anxieties of once more answering to a mistress.

"Should you like me to write to Mrs. Martin then? Are there any comforts or considerations you would like the London staff to begin in anticipation of your arrival?"

Elizabeth paled at the completely ordinary question for a wife of Mr. Darcy, but an enormous reminder to the once Elizabeth Bennet she had married more than slightly above her head.

"What kinds of preparations are you thinking?" As Mrs. Aldridge began to list a number of changes any lady of the house might change, from draperies to schedule, Elizabeth reflected on her instruction to run a home from her mother. Never at Longbourn had there been instruction to do so with fiscal responsibility. And the changes Mrs. Aldridge explained began to sound more and more expensive the longer Elizabeth listened.

Luckily a Mrs. Ftizwilliam Darcy had no need of frugality. But Elizabeth also remembered the arguments and raised voices her parents exchanged over the household budgets and with so much already standing between her and Mr. Darcy, she never wished to disappoint Fitzwilliam in that area.

"The London staff, yes, that is a consideration." Elizabeth bit her lower lip and stirred her tea as she willed her mind to work faster than it was wont to oblige. Her interjection had caused Mrs. Aldridge to quiet. "To be perfectly honest I cannot think of any comforts or considerations we might need. I can speak to Mr. Darcy to confirm such an outcome, but I think apart from instructing Mrs. Martin that we will soon arrive within the week, I cannot think of any additional lines to add." Elizabeth gulped as she tried so hard to sound confident as Mrs. Darcy and yet not offend the kind woman aiming to held her find her way.

Mrs. Aldridge frowned as she wrote down the notes prompting Elizabeth to ask her to speak her mind. Closing the small red leather book that served as a talisman of the housekeeping position, Mrs. Aldridge blew out a breath.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe your family is expected to be in London when you arrive?"

Elizabeth sipped her tea and then replaced the cup to the saucer with an audible clink as it nearly slipped from her fingers. "My father will be staying with my aunt and uncle. But my aunt and uncle do live in London."

"Yes, ma'am. Do you not think you might have them over to dine when you and Mr. Darcy return home? I only ask because Mrs. Martin is likely very much of the same mind as I am and that is…"

"Yes?" Elizabeth prodded the housekeeper to tell all.

The gray-haired woman who could still make a bed in less than two minutes' time looked at her mistress with a twinkle in her eye. "We have all enjoyed watching the master and young miss grow from childhood and your marriage to the master is a great cause for celebration." Mrs. Aldridge frowned as she recalled the pale, unconscious woman brought to Broadmeadow that first evening that now sat across from her, mistress of all. "We may not have celebrated your nuptials as we ought here at Broadmeadow due to the circumstances of your — of the accident," she swallowed as she adjusted the assignation of blame. "But the staff in London will love you, Madam!"

Mrs. Darcy blushed and looked down at her hands as she squinted her eyes shut at the housekeeper's strong praise.

"And if you don't mind me saying so, the master has needed a bonny lass by his side to keep him steady."

Elizabeth scowled as she cast off her embarrassment and misunderstood her housekeeper. "Do you mean to say that Mr. Darcy is not steady?"

Mrs. Aldridge frantically shook her head. "Forgive me, I misspoke. Only that you seem to provide a side to the master he has not had these many years without his parents. And there was a spell, a brief time, when it was the drink he fancied above all –"

"Mrs. Aldridge," Elizabeth Darcy interrupted her housekeeper, "I am thankful for your wise counsel in regards to Broadmeadow and your assistance in communication with the other households. But I cannot condone such a conversation about my husband, your employer, now or ever. Do you understand?" Elizabeth's fierce loyalty to Fitzwilliam is what the housekeeper chose to see as the young mistress took her to task for speaking about the master's difficulties since leaving his aunt's house in Kent.

"Perfectly understood, Mrs. Darcy. I apologize." Both women allowed a spell of time to calm their nerves as the conversation reached a point of discontent. The discomfort soon passed, and Mrs. Aldridge returned to her previous topic.

"So, would you like for me to ask Mrs. Martin to order some finer cuts of meat from the butcher in anticipation of hosting your family and friends when you return to town?"

Elizabeth felt guilty for scolding her elder but knew she sat in a very precarious situation, perhaps more precarious than even Mrs. Aldridge understood. She should be the one to write the housekeeper in London, but it was also within her purview to delegate such tasks to the housekeeper, and she would honestly prefer such a delegation as she had never met Mrs. Martin. It was a very strange thing to consider writing a letter to someone you have never met. Elizabeth also reasoned if she allowed Mrs. Aldridge to send a letter, perhaps the housekeeper would explain that Mrs. Darcy would listen to no abuse of her husband's good name from any staff member saving her from a similarly unpalatable situation as she just experienced.

"Write to Mrs. Martin. And let her know that she might order one or two nights' worth of meat as I expect at the very least we shall host my aunt and uncle," Elizabeth finally relented.

"And what about any balls? If you plan to hold a ball, Mrs. Martin will likely need some weeks' notice to secure extra staff." Mrs. Aldridge did not look up from her notebook as she awaited her Mistress' answer and therefore missed the look of abject horror on Elizabeth Darcy's face.

The mere mention of a ball to celebrate her wedding made Elizabeth realize how very unlikely such event was to happen. Aside from her husband's disinclination to dance, she had not married in the Church! She had eloped with Mr. Darcy!

Elizabeth's mind reeled from the social implications of her marriage until her silence became noticed by the housekeeper and Mrs. Aldridge finally looked up at Mrs. Darcy.

"Mrs. Darcy?"

"The short notice of extra staffing is just an inconvenience Mrs. Martin will have to bear if we should decide to hold a ball. I believe our plans are not to remain in town very long. My husband had already intended to summer at Pemberley. Could you also write a letter to the housekeeper at Pemberley? Mrs. –" Elizabeth touched her temple as she closed her eyes and tried to remember the name of Mrs. Aldridge's counterpart at the Derbyshire estate. But the name eluded her from earlier in the conversation when Mrs. Aldridge detailed all of the different properties and staff in Mr. Darcy's domain that she was now equally responsible for as his wife.

"Mrs. Reynolds. Oh, she will be the most pleased of all to meet you! I would so dearly love to see the new Mr. and Mrs. Darcy situated at Pemberley . . ." Mrs. Aldridge gave a sigh and seemed lost in a far off thought as Elizabeth changed the subject from writing to the other housekeepers.

"Have you ever been to Pemberley? I thought you were born and raised here." Elizabeth finished her cold tea and allowed the housekeeper to talk to her about the time that she traveled to the family's estate in Derbyshire as a young maid. The previous Mrs. Darcy's personal maid had fallen ill, opening a need for a Miss Miriam Aldridge to assist her mistress.

Elizabeth listened to the story with a good humor and believed she had done a promising job of asserting her position as mistress and coming to an understanding with Mrs. Aldridge. But as the interview concluded, Elizabeth Darcy no longer felt a mind to speak about meal plans and comforts or accommodations at her husband's many homes across the kingdom. She came to realize that by being so preoccupied with finding Lydia and then rescuing Lydia, Elizabeth Bennet forgot how dangerous it was to be an Elizabeth Darcy without so much as a marriage contract or consummation.

One matter she had no hope of reconciling that night, but the other matter she could address without delay. Just as soon as her chatty housekeeper would return to her duties and allow Mrs. Darcy to seek out her own.

******  
Well we know what happens when Elizabeth is a woman on a mission!


	30. Chapter 32

SWOON ALERT, SWOON ALERT. And sorry, I'm not sorry.

XOXOXXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

A feeling of tedious familiarity overcame Mrs. Darcy as she stood once more outside the double white doors of Mr. Darcy's suite of rooms. She vacillated between knocking on the door and running away to her maid and restoring her toilette before embarking on a seduction of her husband. As she shifted her weight from slippered foot to slippered foot, her lips twisted into a personal look of mischief. Decided to oblige her first aim, and not give in to cowardice, she gently rocked her weight to the back of her heels and rapped on the door. The sureness she willed to surge through her breast was faked as much as she had a full recovery the previous day.

When there was no answer right away, she raised her fist to knock once more, sure the butler had told her Mr. Darcy had returned, just as the door clicked open. Mr. Darcy stood in the doorjamb with a smile at his diminutive wife.

"Yes?"

"Oh, you are here." Elizabeth had turned frantically towards the stairs and then back to her husband and then back to the stairs. Finally, she looked at him shyly once more as he spoke again.

"These are my rooms. After taking a ride with Jamie," Darcy coughed he corrected himself as Elizabeth scowled, "Dr. Rowley to the edge of our property, I thought my state of dress would be an insult at the dinner table."

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered as she finally took her husband's state of appearance into full consideration. The man smelled lovely, a mixture of musk and sandalwood, his hair still damp accentuating his dark curls that framed his face. Elizabeth's expression softened as her fingers itched to reach up and know what it was like to touch that hair, but she quickly grasped each hand with the other and pinned them behind her back.

"Well, will you not invite me in?"

Darcy stood more erect from the slump he had occupied against the doorjamb and nearly tripped over his own feet as he tried to simultaneously step backwards and to the side. Elizabeth laughed and patted his chest with a flat hand as she passed him to enter his room.

Although she had seen it that morning, the new Mrs. Darcy still marveled at the idiosyncrasies the room's furnishings and state revealed about her husband. Nary an item looked out of place, though that was likely the work of his valet, Mr. Stewart, Elizabeth assumed that if Mr. Darcy enjoyed a certain amount of clutter, his staff member would obey.

Darcy closed the door and the latch click made Elizabeth involuntarily shiver. She tried to cover for her anxiety by changing the subject.

"So you truly own houses in Scotland and Derbyshire and London…" Elizabeth began to enumerate as Mr. Darcy walked forward and Elizabeth noticed the man's feet. He was barefoot! She giggled the see his bare skin and he followed her gaze down to his toes. He agreed with her enumeration as he opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whisky and held it up. Despite her past with the beverage, Elizabeth licked her lips and nodded furiously, which made her husband laugh again.

"We also have interests abroad, including India and two holdings in America." Mr. Darcy handed his wife a small glass with only half the amount of whisky that was in his glass. "I believe Mrs. Aldridge intended to speak to you this afternoon. Did she not come see you?"

"Oh she came to see me," Elizabeth said bitterly. She took her first taste of whisky. When her husband frowned, Elizabeth quickly changed her tone. "We had a lovely interview, but –"

"There was a but," Darcy prompted as Elizabeth halted midsentence. His wife sighed and took a seat in the small reading area he kept by the bookshelf.

Darcy had no choice but to follow his wife and while he intended to sit in the arm chair across from her, she gently tapped the loveseat that she had chosen to sit on the very edge.

"Dr. Rowley said it was possible I might never recover my memory of the day we married."

"There is no rush. We can remain at Broadmeadow for as long as you need."

"Yes, but I may never remember. How many evenings have you lost from no carriage accident but a healthy dose of this?" Elizabeth held up her small glass of whisky and took another sip to emphasize her point.

Dark, twisting pain of fear rumbled in Darcy's insides. He set his drink to the table as if the whisky had offended.

"What precisely is your point, Madam?"

Elizabeth straightened her posture and turned her body towards her husband so that she might address him directly. She too had placed her cup next to his, a rather poignant representation of his and hers that amused her sardonic sense of humor. From this vantage point, the overwhelming urge to touch the man consumed her as his soulful brown eyes revealed the complete vulnerability of a man in love. She reached up and gingerly touched her fingers to the side of his face, an intimacy that Fitzwilliam relished for a moment and leaned into before covering her hand with his own to bring it down to the space in between them.

"This is mortifying to admit but I find myself unequal to the task of resisting your charms." As Elizabeth confessed her vexation was the result of their celibacy, Darcy broke into a half-grin as he allowed his wife to ramble on.

"I am at a loss, confused," Elizabeth looked down away from her husband she found no words to explain what she wished for them to do.

"I have told you that I will not take my rights as a husband until you are well."

"And I might wish to be informed why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus rejected! " Elizabeth snapped at her husband as his explanation did not absolve her of the infuriating passions stinging her heart and soul every time she was in the man's presence!

"You would use my words against me, Madam." Darcy released his wife's hand and reached for his whisky. A sudden sour taste filled his mouth at the unhappy memory of his first proposal in Kent.

"I am attempting to remind you that once you loved me most ardently and now," Elizabeth's voice cracked and she looked away from her husband and bit her lower lip to keep herself from crying. Why did it feel so gut wrenching to have him reject her? How long had she desired nothing more than his embrace and kisses?

As if reading his wife's mind, Fitzwilliam Darcy cleared his throat and began his own inquiries to soothe his fragile ego. "Is this another spell of your playacting? Are you toying with me?"

Elizabeth sniffed to try to hide her tears but she turned back to face her husband. "During my discussion was Mrs. Aldridge I asserted my position as your wife and helpmate in this house. And with the others. Doing so, I had the unfortunate recollection that I am not fully your wife," her voice diminishes in volume as she continued her confession. "I am not truly the matron but still a maiden. The ache in my heart–"

"Yes, the ache indeed. I assume this is a new companion to your sentiments."

Elizabeth gapped at the man in horror as Mr. Darcy stood up from the loveseat and stood with his back to her. Clutching her hand into fists, Elizabeth pounded poor upholstery beside her.

"Why are you always so cruel?"

Darcy spun around and asked his wife to explain as Elizabeth shot up from the loveseat with all of her might and practically launched herself at her husband.

"You have admitted yourself we have had a strange courtship, very little of one. I am here to confess that I love you and my feelings cannot be repressed. And yet you—" Elizabeth never finished her thought as Fitzwilliam seized his wife and silenced her with the most passionate, deep kiss.

The watershed broke between them and the overflow of emotions they both had endured over the last four days tumbled from one kiss to the next. Then another. And more.

When finally their passions cooled slightly and they both gasped for breath, unwilling to let either go. Fitzwilliam blinked his eyes at the wondrous feeling of Elizabeth's small fist gripping the back of his shirt. Mr. Darcy whispered close to his wife's ear.

"Are you absolutely certain, Elizabeth?"

Feeling her heart might burst with both trepidation and excitement over what was to come, Elizabeth whispered back.

"Make me yours, Fitzwilliam."

***********  
And me too, and you too, and all of our personal Fitzwilliam Darcys, am I right?  
I so love this story, sooooo soooo much. Got up at 5:30 AM and wrote this morning for 2 solid hours. And guess what? I still have TWO more scenes to edit throughout the day and get up. Here we go, into Act 3.

XOXOXO

Elizabeth Ann West


	31. Chapter 34

Double-dose of swoon? Remember, he gave her HALF of what he drank.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

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Elizabeth Bennet's left nostril twitched in a perturbed fashion. Without opening her eyes, she dreamily attempted to scratch the offending body part with her right hand. But her right hand, attached to her right arm, felt an enormous weight that would not signify in her half-asleep mind. Therefore, the consequence of an itchy nose demanded at least one eyelid to lazily lift and give a blurred glance at her invalid arm.

Intelligence gathered by one eye quickly required the confirmation of a second eye, followed by a smile of delight. Next to her slumbered the form of a man she would forever call her own: Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Rolling over to release her arm pinned beneath the man, she forgot all about her itchy nose as she nuzzled him in the delicate space between his shoulder blades.

"Mmmm," he murmured.

"Wake up, Mr. Darcy. Your wife commands you," Elizabeth whispered, tucking her face further and further into his neck and feeling so bold as to place a kiss at the nape.

"You command me, do you?" Fitzwilliam roared to life, tossing himself her way as he knocked her flat on her back and rolled to his side to face her. Taking in her naked form and the beauty of waking up next to a woman who remembered who he was, the roguish groom tickled his Elizabeth until she cried for deliverance.

Regaining her composure, she nearly giggled again as the man propped his chin on a bent arm and inspected her closely.

"Are you well? You are not in pain?"

Elizabeth mouthed a "No," as she recalled the gentle, yet unmistakably firm, manner in which they had spent the evening. Her stomach growled as both of them had forgotten to eat last night in their raptures.

"Come, we need to dress and go below stairs." Fitzwilliam scrambled up to kiss his wife directly on the nose, the same nose that offensively woke him that morning, and began to push up to leave the bed. This displeased Mrs. Darcy, so she flung her arms around him and pulled back, causing him to crash back down on top of her.

"Must we? I dine in my rooms. Let's call for a tray and languish a little. Please, Fitzwilliam?"

Shaking himself free of his wife, he sat up in bed and considered his wife beside him, now pulling the sheets to cover herself up.

"You would wish to start the morning together?"

She nodded. Neither of them spoke how such a practice was unheard of, let alone spending the entire night in the same bed.

Darcy cleared his throat. "My parents were a very loving couple. I know I do not speak of them very often, but…" He gave his wife a half-smile as she reached out for him. Feeling an avalanche of emotions threaten to consume him, Fitzwilliam Darcy took comfort in his wife's embrace.

"I see no reason why either of us should ever awake alone again," she said, decidedly.

Darcy nodded and bestowed a kiss they both were coming to find familiar: a penetrating, passion-stirring exchange that tantalized them both, dressed or undressed. As Elizabeth recognized signs that her husband might be persuaded for another journey to Cupid's throes, she involuntarily winced.

"You are in pain! Do not hide it."

"No, no, truly I am not. I am just in a vexing position. I should love to spend more time as we did last night, but I am sore." Elizabeth explained her case, wondering if he would ever trust her again to know her own body.

Suddenly embarrassed, Darcy recalled his uncle telling him of the discomfort some wives felt after an act of sexual congress. He was a bully.

"You should have a warm bath, I am told that — that helps."

Elizabeth sat up in bed to join her husband, clutching the sheets still to cover her breasts. "If I promise to take a warm bath in a little while, will you lay with me now for a small time?"

"If you command me, madam."

"I do. I most heartily do."

The happy couple resumed another round of cuddling and enjoying each other's company despite both of them feeling their passions rise. As Elizabeth's stomach growled again, this time joined by Fitzwilliam's, they both laughed at the indignant behavior of their stomachs.

"I will call for a meal to be brought up and warm water for your bath." Fitzwilliam finally left his marital bed and pulled the bed the curtains shut for Mrs. Darcy's privacy. "And I will tell the carriages to ready for an afternoon departure?" He asked as he hunted for the pair of breeches from last night. Hearing his wife squeal in delight Darcy nodded to no one but himself as he pulled a shirt over his head and pulled the cord for Mr. Stewart.

Alone and ensconced in the near darkness of the closed bed curtains, Elizabeth Darcy snuggled down into the covers and closed her eyes. She was Elizabeth Bennet no more, in fact and deed. She only wished that she could remember her vows to the man just as well as she revisited every moment of ecstasy from the night before.

******************************

And that is the end of Act 2. Time to write more and move into the thrilling concluding act, what will happen when they all get to London, what about Mr. Bennet going back to Longbourn? Will Darcy and Elizabeth stop there? I know what my outline says, but we'll see what unfolds as the story goes along. Can't wait!

XOXOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


	32. Chapter 36

THANK YOU FOR ALL OF THE REVIEWS! So here is what is hilarious... some of the VERY valid points you all brought up were my same concerns and they are addressed in the material I had in draft state before I posted last night's scene. Why is Lydia allowed with Georgiana? Why didn't anyone care about that? Why is Lydia suddenly well, Lydia? All this and more shall be answered in this last Act of the book. And man, it is coming to me in a flurry. :) Hang with me for a few more weeks, all will be well. Well not for George Wickham.

XOXOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

*****************************

The entire Broadmeadow staff of maids, footmen and even many of the groundsmen stood in a receiving line to see the master and mistress off. Elizabeth walked the gauntlet on her husband's arm, even accepting a golden bouquet of meadow buttercups and lady's bedstraw from the youngest scullery maid. Saying goodbye to all of the kind people who helped her from the first moment she arrived at Broadmeadow brought a great sadness to Elizabeth's heart. So much of her did not wish to leave Scotland!

Near the end of the line, a new face for the staff would remain behind as a new hire. Peter, the footman from her aunt and uncle' house in London, stood next to Mrs. Aldridge who had taken slight shine to the boy. Eager to earn his way, Peter worked hard, a personality trait any housekeeper could appreciate in a large estate.

"Congratulations Miss, excuse me, Mrs. Darcy," Peter said quickly and bowed his head.

"If I am able, I will arrange to have your effects shipped here to Broadmeadow. I'll never forget your service to me." Elizabeth beamed up at her husband who had not argued in the slightest when his wife asked if Peter might find a position there. For Darcy's sake, he would much prefer the footman to remain in Scotland, as he could not control the unreasonable pangs of his jealous heart.

"Please help him find his place here, Mrs. Aldridge? If there are any concerns, feel free to write to me." Mr. Darcy said as his wife gently cleared her throat. Darcy's right nostril flared in embarrassment. "Perhaps you should write to Mrs. Darcy, and she will relate to me if I may be of assistance." Darcy gave his wife's arm a gentle squeeze not perceptible to anyone but the couple.

"Heavens alive, sir. This boy is home, he may have spent much time away from home, but I say we'll claim him as a Scot." Mrs. Aldridge looked beyond her master to her mistress. Very deliberately she slowly bowed her head as a final signal of great respect for the woman.

With no additional staff to farewell, the bags and carriage completely packed including a basket of shortbreads and treats from the Cook, the last twenty yards to the carriage appeared unsurmountable. Elizabeth Darcy's knees began to weaken with each step closer and closer to the open door. A cold sweat broke out across her skin and Mr. Darcy perceived her hesitation in the link between their arms.

"Can't… I cannot . . . Fitzwilliam, the carriage I – I… please," she hoarsely whispered, overcome panic and fear and at the very same time not wishing to reveal such a weakness in front of the full staff.

"Take a deep breath, Elizabeth. I am here. All is well" Mr. Darcy said quietly and repeated the same phrase with almost each step. His wife concentrated more and more on his words than her fears but the carriage might crash.

The steady cadence of Mr. Darcy's speech carried them all the way to the door but Mr. Darcy still worried Elizabeth might not make it all the way inside. Wishing to save his wife from further embarrassment yet also feeling surprisingly joyful as a young groom, Mr. Darcy bent down and swooped up his wife dramatically into his arms.

Elizabeth Darcy wrapped her hands around the man's neck but he forgot she still held the bouquet of flowers. The bouquet haphazardly thrusted directly into his face before Elizabeth could adjust.

Darcy sputtered from the petals and sharp nettles before shaking his head and giving his wife a kiss to the enormous cheers and hoots of his Broadmeadow staff. After he turned around he took a step up and cautiously lifted Mrs. Darcy directly into the carriage and set her upon a bench. But the unpredictable master of Pemberley, Darcy House, and Broadmeadow had not ceased in his merriment. As he motioned for all of the grooms and driver to be ready, Mr. Darcy stood on the rail and waved off as he ordered the carriage to begin moving before tucking inside and slamming the carriage door shut.

As it had not rained since Elizabeth arrived at Broadmeadow, the Darcy carriage rolled away with a great cloud of dust down the lane toward Canonbie and beyond. Inside the carriage, Elizabeth could not help but cry, making Darcy feel dreadful.

"My darling, please forgive me. I should not have forced you into the carriage." Darcy reached to help his wife wipe her tears away. She defiantly shook her head.

"Mrs. Darcy cannot fear riding in carriages. It is not to be borne!" Elizabeth said in a perfect mimic of Darcy's Aunt Catherine's voice, a very opinionated lady who took great pleasure interrogating Elizabeth when she visited Kent.

Darcy cupped his wife's face with his hands and gave her sweet kiss of his support and love. Elizabeth calmed as the carriage reached a steady pace and she settled herself amongst the items inside the carriage for their comfort. The staff had worried after them so much, there was scarcely any room to stretch their legs!

"I did suspect with your memory restored you might rightly have an aversion to travel and so I brought a friend," Mr. Darcy reached in front of him to pull a book from underneath the bench seat.

"How clever, do all of your carriages have spring-loaded seats that lift up to reveal secrets?" Elizabeth asked still daily coming to accept the life of luxury and ease Mr. Darcy lived. And by consequence of marriage, she also now lived.

"Our carriages," he corrected. "Soon you will stop asking me my carriages and my houses have this or that." Mr. Darcy pecked his wife's cheek and ran his fingers over the gold lettering imprinted on the front cover. The complete works of William Shakespeare was a volume he kept in all of his houses just like the Bible and a few classical texts from Homer and Plato.

"You would help me pass the time by reading plays? I am the luckiest wife." Elizabeth gently jostled her elbow into Mr. Darcy's side, finding an occasion to take a deep breath herself and brave looking out the window. The beautiful Scottish countryside in full bloom of summer passed by in vivil blues, reds, and yellows. There were two days yet for their journey, but Elizabeth could not fret as Mr. Darcy's baritone voice began to read.

 _Two houses, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we set our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean._

 _A/N: Oh, and woke up this morning naturally at 4:40 AM, so I am hopeful my adjustment period to "get your butt out of bed and write" and 5:30 AM is resolved. :) So far this week along I have slung 15,000 words. And it's Wednesday! This is all your fault, all the love and support and desire for more of this story. Amazing where we all are and this all started with me dreaming about Elizabeth Bennet waking up in bed next to Fitzwilliam Darcy without a clue who he was or how she got there. :) TEEHEE._

 _XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West_


	33. Chapter 30

Jane Bennet stood outside of her aunt's bedroom poised ready to knock. She held her breath, and steeled her chin, but just as she was about to make a sound with her knuckles, the door unexpectedly opened.

"Jane, dear. Why ever are you waiting out here?" Madeleine Gardiner shooed her niece into her bedroom.

"I did not wish to disturb you if you are unwell."

"Oh heavens, then you would be waiting out there many months I'm afraid." Aunt Gardiner laughed as Jane looked confused until she realized her aunt's condition meant another cousin would eventually make an arrival.

"Is it certain?" Jane naturally glanced at her aunt's midsection. Her aunt shook her head.

"No, it is very early, yet. But believe it or not, feeling ill is a good sign. Now, what did you need to see me about?"

Jane gulped. Her father left that morning for Longbourn, despite the pleas from all of them to stay. Instead, Mr. Bennet left a letter for Mr. Gardiner to act in his stead for his daughters. And now she was about to ask to leave as well. "I have been invited to stay at Darcy House with Miss Darcy and I would very much like to accept the invitation."

"This is rather sudden." Madeleine Gardiner frowned. She knew of the reputation of the Darcy family from when she was a child growing up in Lambton, but that was the parents of the current Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy. She did know anything about the current generation to manage Pemberley and the other Darcy family holdings. "Your sister and Mr. Darcy have not returned from Scotland, have they?"

Jane shook her head while her aunt returned to her bed to lay down. "No, but Miss Darcy is ever so lonely. The only woman who comes to see her is Miss Bingley."

At the mention of Caroline Bingley her Aunt Gardiner had a few choice words to impart. Jane held her laughter to herself as she too remembered that woman's rudeness when they called upon the Hurst town home in January. "I do see how that is problematic for the child," was the only kind phrase her aunt managed.

"What if, what if you came to call at Darcy House in the morning? I shall go today and remain in the room Georgiana has readied and discuss the subject with her." Jane brightened as she expressed the invitation to a home not hers to manage. With any luck, it would be an invitation to dinner as planned by Lady Matlock and the Colonel.

Mrs. Gardiner raised her eyebrow. "Already using her first name?"

"At her request. I believe Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy are very lonely having lost their parents at so young of an age." Jane waited while her aunt sagely nodded. She did not add that after the interview the previous afternoon and night at the theater which confirmed Lydia's location there was very little ceremony left between the co-conspirators. And she certainly would not confess the reason she must stay at Darcy House was because that very night, she would go with the colonel to rescue Lydia from a house of ill-repute.

"Why do you not remain here tonight and your uncle and I may go with you tomorrow to visit and see you there?"

Prepared for this argument, Jane's lower lip began to quibble. Her aunt immediately reached for her niece. "Oh Jane, dear, please do not cry. What is it? Why are you so upset."

Jane sniffed as she pretended to keep tears at bay. "No, please do not trouble yourself. I am being incredibly silly."

"There's no such thing as silliness when our hearts ache. Tell me and if I can help you, I shall."

Jane blinked, willing her eyes to water, though she only felt a slight increase in moisture. Inside, her feelings were cold and calculating, not distressed or saddened. "I told Miss Darcy about Lydia, and she-and she offered to be a sister in my time of need. And if I write to her to say I will not come . . ."

"You will offend her sensibilities and this is not the time to stretch the limits of your connection. Yes, yes, I see the difficulty."

Jane made a large show of covering her face to restore it to a proper visage, then made a soft, half-smile for the sake of her aunt. "I am terribly sorry, your counsel is wise. I am just in a precarious situation and Miss Darcy has extended the kindness."

As Mrs. Gardiner mulled over the full facts of the matter, not immune to the hurt that she and her husband were not of the same social class of her nieces, Jane remained quiet. It was never a problem for the eldest Bennet daughter to keep a silence where others of her family despised the condition so much so, it appeared they would say anything to fill the void.

"You are prepared to stay at Darcy House without chaperone?" Mrs. Gardiner had not been invited, but she did raise a valid point. With Miss Darcy not married, and Jane equally a maiden, there remained no one to chaperone.

"Miss Darcy's companion, Mrs. Annesley, has returned from seeing her sister. We shall be a merry trio!" Jane laughed, then appeared guilty for such joy, another show she hoped would tug on her aunt's heartstrings.

Mrs. Gardiner clucked her tongue and wiggled her fingers to draw her niece closer to offer her an embrace. "I shall support your cause with your uncle. But you may have to do a better job in your playacting for him."

Jane pulled back from her aunt and this time truly did feel guilty for being caught in her act.

"Oh, no long face now, I do not know what plans you young people have made, but I can hardly blame you. Especially after your sister's flight. I'm afraid even if I tell you no, you'll shimmy down the drainpipe in the night!"

"No, I would never leave secretly like Lizzie! It was very wrong of her to make everyone worry. And she might have been killed in that accident."

"Too true. Still, I believe you have more strength residing in you, Janiebell, than you give yourself credit." Madeleine Gardiner managed a smirk from her niece by using a nickname that dated back to the Gardiner's wedding breakfast. The eldest Bennet daughter had rung the bell when the couple arrived from the church and again when they left, most eagerly.

"Now, why don't you go fetch your uncle. I am afraid I am still not in any condition to go below stairs." To reinforce her statement, Mrs. Gardiner leaned over the edge of her bed, away from her niece, reaching for the chamber pot.

Feeling terrible to see her aunt in such a poor state, Jane winced as her aunt retched. When the spell did not appear to be of a short duration, Jane hastily announced she would not delay to get her uncle, though her matter could wait.

Mrs. Gardiner waved an arm as the only farewell she could manage as Jane dashed out the door.

I know, Mrs. Gardiner is almost always with child in my stories . . .but I just always think of them as the foil to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. :) Besides, now I think we might forgive Mrs. Gardiner's decision to NOT be alone in Scotland if she suspected herself with child and beginning to feel symptoms. I also just realized with Elizabeth's concussion and now this scene, there is a shocking amount of vomiting in this tale...LOL.

Will have more to post later this week. This book is just demanding to be written. So I'm listening. Dont' forget, if you want to own a copy of your own, edited and spiffy :) the preorder is on Amazon, Nook, Google Play, and iBooks. And like To Capture Mr. Darcy, I will make a thankful page for all of the people who have written at least one review on this story at the back of the published book. You all were a big part of this process. Love you all!

XOXOX

Elizabeth Ann West


	34. Chapter 38

A/N: Merci, Gracias, Obrigada, and Thank you for ALLLLL of the reviews! I am tickled pink so many read my writing around the world! And while I am not fluent in another language (I was a nerd and took Latin in school), I do use Google Translated to get the primary meaning of your thoughts and well-wishes. Thank you so much!

Now, did a lot of someones ask for MORE Darcy and Elizabeth scenes? (Don't worry Jane and Richard shippers, you get your taste tomorrow!)

XOXOXO,

Elizabeth Ann West

The Darcys managed fifty miles of good road before stopping for the night. Elizabeth refreshed herself in the room while Mr. Darcy went below stairs to send another express to London to contradict the previous letter of their delay.

"Did you travel comfortably in the second carriage?" Elizabeth asked earnestly of her maid, genuinely caring about the woman's well being. While they could not be friends, they shared a bond thanks to her injury that required so much of the young woman's discretion and abilities.

"Yes, ma'am. And you did not have to send those treats back to us at the first stop. They were meant for you and the master."

"Tosh, we could not possible have eaten so many delicacies. If I had, my mid-section would swell to such a width poor Mr. Darcy would have a whale for a wife!" Elizabeth teased as Fiona brought her warm water to wash the dust of the road from her body.

"I don't think the master would worry about your mid-section growing, Mrs. Darcy." Fiona closed her eyes as silence fell over the room, until her lady began a hearty laugh that nearly brought her to tears. Fiona began to laugh as well.

"How silly of me! But it is much too early to think of such things, surely one evening, it is not possible." Mrs. Darcy shook her head and accepted Fiona's help to change her attire.

"I do not believe that is how that works, ma'am."

The two women made mock faces at one another and then shared another laugh. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief at such a hopeful thought, that there was a chance, albeit a very small chance, she could already carry Mr. Darcy's child. The good cheer became the balm she needed after a tedious afternoon on the road and staving off panic at every turn of the carriage.

As clean as she could be without a full bath, Elizabeth dismissed Fiona for the evening and told her to rest and eat well. The maid smiled at the dismissal, but had a small request of her employer.

"Mrs. Darcy, forgive me for asking. I really should not, but Mr. Stewart, he suggested, you see."

"Yes? What is it?"

"There is a book of poems in your trunk, madam, and I was wondering if I might read it? Again, I should not have asked, but Mr. Stewart suggested I did because Mr. Darcy allows him to read his books." Fiona held her breath one she finished her repetitive question out of nervousness. She did not add that Mr. Stewart told her she should read more to be a proper ladies' maid, she needed to be able to hold conversation with her lady.

Elizabeth admired the young woman from Scotland who offered her nothing but pure loyalty. Mrs. Aldridge had shared with her the troubles poor Fiona faced below stairs and her heart ached that the woman was so nervous before her now. Elizabeth reached out and grabbed Fiona's hand, causing the young woman to finally breathe once more and look up.

"At Longbourn, I shared a maid with my four sisters. Betsy enjoyed the comforts of my father's library anytime after her duties were satisfied, though with five women to help, I believe she rarely found the time. However, please, feel free to ask to read any book I might have on my person, and short of me wishing to read it myself at the moment, it is yours!" Elizabeth smiled and hoped Fiona would return the gesture. A knock on the door disturbed the two women as Mr. Darcy once more entered the room.

Fiona made a quick bow and thanked Mrs. Darcy before leaving. She scurried past Mr. Darcy with her head down and and arms full of soiled clothing.

"Did I return too quickly? I know you said you wished for a small amount of privacy . . ." Mr. Darcy tried to decipher the odd feeling in the room.

"No, no, husband. But I believe I would like a word with your valet in the morning if you do not mind, or would you like to speak to him for me?"

Darcy removed one of his boots and accepted Elizabeth's help with the second.

"Has he done something to offend you?"

"Me? No." Elizabeth took Darcy's coat from him and laid it upon the chair for the man they were speaking about. When she turned around, Fitzwilliam sat on the edge of the bed and looked at his wife expectantly.

"I believe he may have spoken out of turn to my maid and I would just like for him to know, that in the future if he has concerns about her fulfilling her duties, that he come to me. I should be the judge if she needs instruction."

Darcy mulled his wife's words and found them to be fair. "I will relay to him that message."

Another knock signaled the dinner Mr. Darcy had ordered arrived and the staff of the Kendal inn set up a hasty dining table for two in the middle of the room. Elizabeth inhaled through her nose and smiled at her husband that he was so thoughtful as to allow them to avoid the common rooms.

"Will we spend any nights at Pemberley?" Elizabeth asked as they took their places at the small table.

"We will pass the road to turn off for Pemberley around midday on our third day. It is out of the way, however, I did make arrangements for us to stay in Meryton, unless you wish to send an express to your father and stay at Longhorn?"

Elizabeth wanted to ask that was not Longbourn also out of the way as was Meryton? When she and her aunt left they had to drive far to the west to catch the main road up to Gretna Green. But as Elizabeth chewed her food thoughtfully, more pressing visions of her mother's shrill voice shouting an embarrassing declaration of Mr. Darcy's wealth distracted her from the geographical inquiry. And that shouting was the best outcome. The worst would be Mrs. Bennet insulted Mr. Darcy and found no delight in their marriage from preoccupation with Lydia's flight.

"What if Lydia and Mr. Wickham do not marry? What if she has not been found?" Elizabeth could not help herself from worrying more about Lydia as their travel placed them upon the path to revealing the status of her youngest sister. Elizabeth privately chided herself that worrying so much about her own needs and her own wants that she had shoved the loss of her youngest sister utterly aside since yesterday afternoon.

Mr. Darcy allowed Elizabeth to continue asking questions where he could give no answer as he held just as much information about the situation as his wife. He gently reminded her that he had not received any correspondence from his cousin Richard and he was certain that the lack of news was just as good as any for the time being.

"Besides, they anticipated us arriving yesterday and may have not sent any information for fear we might pass the letter going to Broadmeadow as we travel to London." Mr. Darcy hoped his logical explanation would help distract his wife, but he underestimated the daughter of Francine Bennet.

"But what if there is a child? What will happen to Lydia?" Elizabeth was near tears as personal regret washed over her and she felt a culpability for the years in which she laughed at Lydia's antics, but did not provide her with the guidance and chastisement an older sister held privilege to give.

Darcy sighed. Shifting his weight uncomfortably in a chair that was not his own, he remembered a similar conversation with his cousin Richard when they rescued his sister from the clutches of Wickham. Although Georgiana never fully eloped with George, there was question for many months if she was with child as he did not trust Wickham to keep his self-control under good regulation.

Very somberly, Darcy reached across the table to grasp his wife's hand to reassure her. "If there is a child she would not be the first young woman to bear such a consequence for her foolish actions. But, my lands have many tenant families that would gladly take in a child that was in need. And, as my wife, you would be able to oversee, from a distance, the upbringing and support of our niece or nephew. This has been done for many generations, though it is always unfortunate."

"I cannot tell you how much I am grateful for your willingness to rescue my family's is good name. But I confess ignorance to the raising of bastards." Elizabeth grimaced at the coarse word coming out of her mouth, but there was no other word for it. If her sister was with child, it was George Wickham's bastard. "It would truly be so easy for us to provide support and encouragement for such a child?"

Darcy shrugged. "Perhaps we will be more selective in choosing the child's education. I always thought it was a mistake that my father sent George to school with me." Darcy said nothing more as Elizabeth's mouth opened in horror at the revelation her husband just gave. George Wickham, a bastard himself? How ironic they would discuss supporting his progeny in a similar manner in which he himself grew up.

"But who are his parents?" Elizabeth found herself overcome with curiosity as to the origin of George Wickham. But again, her husband shrugged.

"I never asked and it was not for me to know. But I heard my mother and father argue about it more than a few times in my youth. And then my mother became ill and nothing else mattered. As far as George Wickham knows, his mother and father are Mr. and Mrs. Franklin Wickham, the longtime steward at Pemberley who died three years ago."

"And Mrs. Wickham?" Elizabeth suddenly felt an undeserved charity towards George Wickham, the man of lies and swindle.

Darcy shook his head. "She had died the previous winter. Mr. Wickham is not only friendless, but he holds no family ties either."

Elizabeth looked down at her plate and found reason to poke and prod the various food items in front of her. Eating the Broadmeadow cook's delicacies in the packed basket had more than given her fill and she did not feel hungry.

"I suppose his lack of family is a blessing that we will have none to inform when he is put to death," Elizabeth said.

Darcy dropped his silverware at how casually his wife mentioned such a fate for Wickham.

Elizabeth shrugged in an imitation of her husband's earlier calmness and explained. "It is the only logical conclusion, the man deserted the militia. Your cousin searches for him. I cannot believe the militia is not more interested in apprehending such a man."

Darcy lifted his glass of wine and prepared himself for what he had to say. The silence between them suited Elizabeth just fine as she had much to reflect upon and with her own words realized by this point there was no hope of seeing Lydia and Mr. Wickham married, not that she wished such a criminal upon her sister.

"Your suspicion for the man I've known since childhood matches my own. But I will remind you, dearest, we hold no information as to the status of your sister or Mr. Wickham and I believe the subject rather distressing. We still have a very long way to travel and I would not for the world ask you to take on additional burdens than what you already carry."

Elizabeth bristled at the very polite, yet very firm, declaration she was not to speak about her sister or Mr. Wickham further. She agreed on the surface with her husband the subject distressed and there was no productivity to further guessing what the future held for any of them. But it still stung to be told what to do.

The remainder of the conversation during the meal remained stilted. Darcy began to suspect he had offended his wife though for his part, he had taken great care to be as considerate as possible for her feelings.

"I should like to go back to the easiness we had in the carriage here, Elizabeth. Would you like for me to send a servant to retrieve our book?"

Elizabeth yawned and gently shook her head. She finally had eaten most of her dinner and found a full belly coupled with the afternoon of travel brought on a healthy amount of fatigue.

"I believe I should like to ready for bed. We leave at dawn?"

Mr. Darcy smiled in spite of himself to once again experience a reminder he had married a woman so very similar to his own habits. Other ladies found great pleasure in holding up the plans of others to travel, some like his mother genuinely needed the extra consideration. Others, like certain sisters of his friends, seemed to enjoy forcing a delay as a sport.

"Indeed. Which reminds me, you never stated if you wish to call on Longbourn when we stop in Meryton."

Elizabeth shook her head and pulled pins from the back of her hair. Long tresses of her dark curls cascaded down her back.

"This is ungenerous of me to say. But I am afraid if we stop at Longbourn, we shall never make it to London. Perhaps we should skip Meryton as well," Elizabeth envisioned her Aunt Phillips recognizing them and shouting across the street. "I know it is much to ask but maybe we could stay in Wycombe?"

Mr. Darcy walked decidedly closer to his wife, standing just behind her as if mesmerized by the releasing of her hair. Wafts of orange peel and cinnamon from the soap used at Broadmeadow brought to him the strong memory of their first night together while more and more curls found release from their captors. Reaching up to help his wife finish her task, Mr. Darcy placed a gentle kiss just under her right ear.

"My sentiments exactly, Madam." 

Ah, they fight, they make up, they make love. Sounds like most marriages to me. :) - EAW


	35. Chapter 33

I feel like there should be trumpets and fanfare and a whole score for this scene. Here comes the drama! Well, some, there will also be more . . . ya'll know that's how I roll :)

XOXOX,

Elizabeth Ann West

*********************

The full moon had begun its wane when Jane Bennet boarded a carriage at nearly midnight with Colonel Fitzwilliam and two of the largest footmen Jane had ever seen. The midsummer night's air lacked any chill as if the evening refused to relinquish the warmth of the day. Jane Bennet despised the humidity and stickiness the fog and atmosphere added to the endeavor.

"I was a fool for enlisting your aid. You really should not come."

Jane pulled back the hood of her cloak, another loan from Miss Darcy, and gave Richard Fitzwilliam a steely gaze that was hard to make out in the shadows of the darkened carriage. "She is my sister, my baby sister. If I do not do all that I can to recover her, I shall regret it all of my days."

"Fair enough, I respect a lady's wishes." Richard banged on the side of the carriage to signal they were ready to go. With a lurch, the unmarked Darcy carriage began to roll down the lane to a turnaround before heading toward a seedier part of London, past Cheapside. Richard felt the need to narrate their progress by pointing out where they were passing, but the moonlight glimmering through the window served to highlight the rather large pistol the colonel carried on his person. Jane swayed in the natural rhythm of the carriage and closed her eyes, willing herself to be brave. She had to be brave, like Lizzie.

All too soon for Jane's wishes, the carriage came to a stop and rocked uneasily as the two footmen jumped off.

"Right we are, once more are you –"

"Colonel, we are wasting time." If the man did not move, Jane Bennet would lower herself from the carriage and gestured thus which spurred Richard into action.

He had never met a woman that made him feel so very out of sorts, but he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. This was a mission different than no other and distraction would lead to disaster if he allowed it.

Lady Bowman's was a house of pleasure catering to the highest tastes of the Ton. Jane had risen her hood once more before they entered the ornate townhome, noting the elegant decor. More than a few couples appeared to be finding their way to amorous bliss in the parlor. Jane followed silently behind Richard as he found the Madame and spoke to her directly.

"I believe you have a new raven in your cages?" Richard accepted the woman's hospitable verbal offerings before reminding her of the agreement he made at the theater.

"I'm afraid my raven is under the weather. But I have many fair-haired songbirds…"

"I'm afraid the client that I spoke to you about has particular tastes. The new raven." He echoed back her platitudes to prove he would accept no other.

The woman who fashioned herself as Lady Bowman looked around the colonel to the woman standing behind him, hooded and obscured from view. Such peculiarities were not new to the woman born Susan Barton, but she knew better than to try to blackmail or otherwise line her pockets with the secrets of those higher than her station. But she could still charge extra for her wares.

"I am afraid the raven's price has changed, if I am to make her perform when she is unwell, you understand." Lady Bowman ran a jeweled finger up and down the uniformed arm of Richard Fitzwilliam who merely pulled out a heavy purse. He poured half of it into the woman's hands.

"Half now, and the other half when my lady is satisfied."

"This way if you please." Lady Bowman led Richard and Jane all the way up to the third floor to a small room at the far end. The colonel frowned as their exit strategy now appeared to be in greater peril, but he knew Lady Bowman and her staff. There was no question they would never assault a member of His Majesty's Army.

"Remember, I did warn you she was not at her best," Lady Bowman warned the couple as she extracted a long key from her skirts and unlocked the door. As the door opened a scurry of movement could be detected, but the dark room revealed no one to be inside. Lady Bowman took the candle from the side table in the hall and walked into the middle of the room. "Come out girl! There is nothing to be gained by hiding in a corner."

"No! I cannot be here. You heard my friend; I was only to stay for a short time, and he would send for me. He- he promised! I am not one of your girls."

"I'm sorry, this does happen from time to time when they are new. Come back. We shall break her in a week's time and then you can come back. In the meantime, let's find you another songbird."

At hearing her sister's unmistakable voice, Jane Bennet pulled her hood back and leaped around the colonel and almost Lady Bowman before the woman placed an arm out to hold her back. But Jane had come too far for that. She pushed the woman, hard, and ducked under her arm as she made a dash to the far corner of the room shouting her sister's name.

"Lydia! Lydia!"

As Lady Bowman scrambled to chase after the mysterious woman, the colonel blocked her path.

"I have the other half of that purse for you. But I believe we will be taking this raven with us."

"The hell you will!" Lady Bowman looked to the door for her male staff, but her face crumpled as it was an unrecognizable footman that stood in the doorway. "I paid double for this chit than what you're giving me now."

"Then consider the other half compensation that I don't send a raid to this house. You have no idea how many people in high places would do anything to recover this girl. You know better than to purchase a gentleman's daughter."

Lady Bowman rubbed her temples as the mysterious woman in the cloak defiantly stood in front of the young woman called Lydia.

"It appears my hands are tied. But I ask that you leave through the back door." Richard nodded at Lady Bowman's request for discretion. "I should not like to upset my other guests." The Madame of the house moved to leave the room, but the footman continued to block the way. Richard nodded and the footman named William stepped aside.

Overcome with emotion, Jane began to exclaim how thankful she was for Richard's assistance but he gruffly reminded her they were not in the clear, just yet.

"Tuck an arm around your sister and," Richard noticed Lydia's state of undress of nothing but a nightgown and looked around the room for assistance. Finding none, he ripped the bed clothes off the mattress and scrunched his face in disgust as he wrapped the tattered quilt around Miss Lydia. Jane assisted as she understood Richard's aims and they fashioned a haphazard cloak around the youngest Bennet sister who openly sobbed and could say nothing to either one of them.

"Right, William lead the way." The hefty footman led their small procession to the second floor and then they had to travel one-by-one down the twisty, rickety stairs of unequal heights to the back corridor. Lydia tripped on the hem of her blanket-cloak and crashed into the back of the colonel just as he reached the bottom step, but he managed to keep his feet and turn around to steady her. He looked up to Jane who navigated the last few stairs on her own.

"Help her to the carriage, don't worry, I am following along."

The group hurried outside to a courtyard, a path that would force them to take the long way around to the waiting carriage out front. Even the courtyard was not empty of paramours, and a group of drunken men began to shout at their small party. One grabbed Jane's cloak and made a lewd request for her company, but instead of crying out, Jane pulled the cords at her neck and allowed the garment to fall away. Richard looked back with his hands full of Lydia who it appeared was nearly starved as well, unable to also help Jane.

"Keep going!" Jane broke into a run after them, and they reached the back gate as the drunk man began to protest over his denial. Thankfully, he was far too deep in his cups to do more than stumble after them with his friends mocking him the whole way.

Once outside the gate, the rescue party found themselves on the empty street, no carriage in sight.

"Go! Tell the carriage to drive around." Richard barked at William holding the exhausted Lydia up, disliking their exposure.

"No, we must keep going. Carry her if you must."

"Your cloak? Are you not cold?"

Jane trembled, but it was not from coldness, but remembering the feeling of that man grabbing her person. "I am not. I shall have to buy Miss Darcy a new one."

"If that is all that is lost, she will not protest." Richard lifted Lydia to carry her across his arms, but he still sent William up ahead to make sure there was no trouble around the front of the house.

Thankfully, there was none. Within a few minutes, they were safely ensconced in the unmarked carriage and driving as fast as the late-night conditions could permit back towards Mayfair.

Jane Bennet sat quietly, holding her sister and staring defiantly out the window.

"I am very sorry you were assaulted, Miss Bennet."

Jane shook her head and shushed Richard. "I am afraid we shall learn much worse happened to my sister. I am well. Just minus a cloak."

As the carriage rolled through Cheapside, Richard did not say a word. Lydia's muffled cries were the only sound that filled the carriage until they arrived at Darcy House.

Richard stared at the tattered quilt that now covered both ladies to some degree and vowed to himself that as soon as Miss Lydia was situated, he would see the blanket burned. This time the crime far exceeded any patience George Wickham deserved, that child might have died in that place if they had not rescued her.

************************  
1 more scene coming for today that I can promise. Writing more this afternoon. Love this new schedule so far!

And I read EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR REVIEWS, so keep them coming, it makes me write faster. :)


	36. Chapter 35

I am having fun writing Jane and Richard almost as much as I am writing Darcy and Elizabeth. Almost. *wink, wink,*

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

The first meal of the day at Darcy House in London practically began at noon courtesy of the previous night's adventures for most of the residents. Even Georgiana, who did not go on the midnight ride to rescue Miss Lydia, did not sleep until all were home safe and as Richard Fitzwilliam predicted, forgave Jane for losing her cloak.

Jane pursed her lips and absent-mindedly counted the petals on a rose in the table's centerpiece instead of the eat the food in front of her. Lydia had shared her bed, but the arrangement yielded fitful hours of nothing resembling restful sleep. Lydia tossed and turned and flailed about when she slept, not allowing Jane a moment of solid rest. Sitting slumped in the well-upholstered chair in Mr. Darcy's dining room, Jane's bones and muscles felt wobbly from the toll of stress and lack of respite.

Richard Fitzwilliam entered in his regimentals with no sign of fatigue anywhere on his face.

"Miss Bennet, I was hoping to find you alone."

In another circumstance, those words would have raised the hopes of many a lady. But Jane thought nothing more about it. Richard continued as she had no comment.

"I have received an express from my cousin and your sister and he did not leave Scotland as they originally planned. Though this must have become lost, as it is nearly five days old from the date . . . " Richard frowned at the letter in his hand, making a mental note to interview the rider.

"You mean to say they have not begun their journey?"

Richard clasped his hands behind his back and gave her a grim frown of disappointment. "There appears to have been complications from her injuries –"

"What injuries!" Jane frowned as her outburst annoyed even her. She swallowed and tried again. "Please explain? How is Elizabeth hurt?"

"When she left your aunt there was a carriage accident with the post chaise. She survived, as did the footman with her, but it was not until two days later when she began to lose her memory that Darcy realized she was very grievously injured."

"No one said a word about a carriage accident, did my father know?"

Richard opened his mouth and closed it dramatically in a chagrin.

"Unbelievable!" her voice rose two octaves in honest surprise. "He could not have," she declared. Then wincing, second guessed herself. "He did?"

Richard held up his hands in a mock surrender. "I was not privy to the letter Darcy wrote your father. My first letter from him did mention the accident."

"Then why did not you tell me this days ago? I thought we had an accord between us in regards to information." Jane crossed her arms in front of her chest, still kind in her tone, but unable to completely hide her pique.

Richard walked forward and pulled out the chair at the head of the table, next to Jane. "I was not aware you did not know about the accident. I thought Darcy would have told your father and in turn, he would have appraised you of the details."

Jane looked down once more at her plate of food, the mocking orbs of color and textures blurring before her eyes. She blinked down tears as Richard handed her a serviette. "Lizzie is hurt? Would you . . ." Jane paused as she looked intently at Richard. "May I read your cousin's letter?"

Richard pressed his mouth into a thin line as he tried to recall if the letter contained any sensitive material, but could remember nothing out of the ordinary.

"Certainly, his words might reassure you in a way this old soldier cannot."

Absently, Jane accepted the express from Richard and answered him, preoccupied with opening the missive. "You have given me many reassurances, Colonel."

Jane missed Richard's look of shock at the woman's compliment, one so freely given without arts or devices on his purse or an introduction to his elder brother or cousin.

Richard was just about to thank Jane when the butler entered the dining room, soon followed by a visitor.

"Mr. Charles Bingley, sir."

Charles entered the dining room with the face of an energetic puppy that melted away at Jane Bennet's scowl.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet, Colonel." He bowed and then with a bewildered gaze noticed the rest of the room remained empty. "Where are Mr. and Mrs. Darcy? I thought they were to arrive today."

"Delayed." Richard tersely answered Bingley as the man refused to stop staring at Jane.

"Oh, that is unfortunate, terribly unfortunate. Nothing serious, I hope?" Mr. Bingley addressed his question to Jane, who still held the express in her hands that gave a most serious reason.

A terrible liar, Jane gapped as she tried to think of an answer, but Richard saved her once more.

"Come on Bingley, Darcy is a married man! Who could blame him for an extra day or two with his new wife, no matter what silly justification he gives for a delay. My pardons Miss Bennet, I do not mean to speak crassly about your sister."

"On the contrary, Colonel, I am aware that my sister's feelings for Mr. Darcy are very deep and have been with her since Kent. She too may have wished to delay for more time, as you say, with her husband." Jane nearly spat out the last word, her eyes slanted at Mr. Bingley.

Richard witnessed a slight indentation along her jawline, a sure sign the lady clenched her back teeth together with great force. Ever a perceptive interrogator and studier of people, Richard realized Mr. Bingley made Jane uncomfortable. And he could not blame her, now knowing the caliber of woman the buffoon gave up on the complaints of his sister and concerns of a friend. Charles Bingley did not deserve Jane Bennet.

"Since Darcy is not here, perhaps you have other business?" Richard rose from the table.

"I would be happy to visit with Darcy's nearest relation. Perhaps visit with you, too, Miss Bennet?" Charles again looked hopefully at the woman he once called his angel.

"I cannot, that is, I am afraid —" Jane could not think of a lie and hated herself for it. How did other ladies so easily give misdirection?

"Miss Bennet here is too kind to say she has a previous engagement and I have to report to the barracks today. A condition of my leave."

"Oh, and what exciting adventures do you have planned Miss Bennet?" Charles would not give up as Miss Bennet also rose and they were now slowly escorting Mr. Bingley towards the front parlor and the entryway beyond.

"Shopping. I am to go shopping with Miss Darcy this afternoon, she insisted."

At the mention of Miss Darcy, Bingley had a new cause to extend his stay. "Oh, Miss Darcy, yes, is she home? My sister wished to extend her an invite . . ." Bingley frowned as he realized Caroline had been very ungenerous in asking him to only invite Miss Darcy for dinner. He held the card in his pocket, but was now too embarrassed to give it, certainly not in front of Miss Bennet.

"Miss Darcy is indisposed at the moment." Richard bandied the universal denial of a young lady just as a chorus of tinkling giggles carried from above stairs down into the entryway with an echo.

Bingley gazed up the stairs, his head cocked to one side. "Why, that sounds like, is one of your other sisters here Miss Bennet?"

"What? No. Just me."

More giggles from above stairs wafted down, attracting greater notice. "Well, whoever it is, it sounds like Miss Darcy enjoys their company."

"A new maid. Miss Darcy has employed a new maid and you know how young girls can be."

Bingley shrugged his shoulders and took Richard's word for it. He had never seen his sister get along so well with a hired staff member, but he would not dare to continue to further contradict the Colonel or Miss Bennet.

"Well, seeing as I am embarrassingly early for an interview with Darcy, please accept my farewells and let me know when we might expect his arrival. I'm finding myself hopelessly outnumbered at the Hurst household. . . " Bingley gently ribbed the Colonel, but then looked to Jane and swiftly apologized.

"I have sisters, sir, they can be quite irksome at times. Your secret is safe with me," Jane said, honestly, forcing herself not to look up at the ceiling as she thought of a particularly irksome sister.

When the man finally left and the door shut, Jane leaned against the bannister as if catching her breath.

"I thought he might never go."

"He is irritating, I never quite understood Darcy's friendship with him."

Jane grimaced as the two girls could be heard again in what sounded like a jolly party. Richard raised an eyebrow and Jane shrugged.

"Two sixteen-year-old girls, trust me, Lydia and Kitty are a year apart and always sound like that."

"It's a shame Georgiana didn't meet her sister Lydia under better circumstances." Richard walked into the parlor and Jane followed him, the letter still in hand.

"Can I pour you a glass of wine?" Richard helped himself to the stronger spirits in the room.

"Yes, and I shall read the letter, if you do not mind."

Richard shook his head.

"Will you go warn them to stay quiet?" he asked, arching his eyebrows but Jane was already reading. "Right, I suppose a fatherly figure might instill more fear." He finished his drink and left Jane to read.

Mr. Darcy's words about Elizabeth's condition and signs of recovery did calm Jane's nerves, but she fretted that Mr. Darcy spoke of what events Elizabeth did not remember, namely their nuptials.

"Oh Lizzie," Jane's heart ached for the sister closest to her in age and alliance.

Above stairs, she heard the Colonel's militaristic, booming voice chide the girls for carrying on so recklessly. Nothing but silence ran through the house once he was finished. His footsteps thundered down the stairs as he still wore his boots. When he entered the parlor to pour himself another drink, a new chorus of giggles even louder than the first, filled the room.

"Perhaps you should tell your cousin's staff to remove the door knocker."

"Yes, I believe that is wise." Richard turned his back to Jane knowing the woman made the sauciest look of "I-told-you-so," that he found absolutely delightful.

Remembering he was not long for this country and that his business was half-way through, Richard refused his heart any further emotions. He simply could not afford them.

Want to again thank allllllllll of the reviewers on this story. I am a review junkie, I click refresh, refresh, refresh. True story, I didn't want to write another scene this morning (I had written 3) and a batch of reviews came in with how much the loved this story and needed more. If you reviewed the last few chapters (31-34), it is YOUR FAULT, I pushed myself to write 6,000 words again today and edit at least this bit up.

And yes, everyone can feel free to slap Bingley.

XOXOXO,

Elizabeth Ann West


	37. Chapter 37

Mr. Bingley was not the only visitor to Darcy House in London that anticipated the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Lady Matlock arrived no less than an hour after Charles Bingley and found her son and Miss Bennet enjoying each other's company in the front parlor.

"Mother!" Richard Fitzwilliam could never shrug the childhood reaction to his mother's presence. Even if he was not engaged in any sort of improper conduct, he always felt guilty under her watchful gaze.

"You found the girl?" Lady Matlock did not bother with platitudes or social niceties as she entered the room and took a seat near Jane. "Your sister, the note said you found your sister."

"Yes, my ladyship, they had her locked away and it does not appear they fed her very much. She was weak and rests above stairs."

"And what has she said? Hmm? Where can we find the scoundrel who started this entire mess. Richard?" Lady Matlock's sharp questions made both Jane and Richard red with embarrassment. After the disastrous call of Mr. Bingley, Richard found himself distracted from his aim of leaving to help the search for Wickham. He had worried more about Jane's feelings and then became captivated by her genteel nature and kind company.

"Now that you are here, I feel comfortable leaving the household. I did not wish to leave the ladies unprotected since we rescued Miss Lydia." Richard gave a lame excuse even to his ears as he bowed to his mother and Miss Bennet.

"For whatever the logic is this? How would I protect these girls?" Lady Matlock tilted her head to one side, well aware of why her most steadfast soldierly son was suddenly behaving so peculiar. Daft, practically, if she had to put a label on it.

"You brought your footman, did you not?"

"And my nephew does not employ any footmen? No, no Richard, your explanation is preposterous. We all know you do not wish to leave Miss Bennet."

Jane's mouth opened in surprise and she covered it with her hands when Richard scowled at his mother.

"Mother, Miss Bennet does not deserve your rudeness." Richard stepped forward and pecked his mother on the cheek before bowing low and taking his leave.

As soon as Richard quit the room, Lady Matlock leaned over and patted Jane's leg as the young woman still sat in a state of shock. "I was half teasing my son, and have giving him a warning. I shall not go so far as to say he could never have a future with you, but as his mother I would not delight in a decision to align himself with the Bennet family."

Jane looked down and murmured that she understood. And she did, Lady Matlock was not being unkind but realistic. She had one sister who attempted to elope and another who managed to actually do so. Mr. Darcy's wealth and status would go a long way to absolving Elizabeth of any scandal, but not completely. And though there was a plan to obscure Lydia's disgrace, no matter how carefully they executed their plants, at any time in the future the truth might be revealed.

After all, it was career and social protection of one colonel in the militia there was even such effort to find and rescue her sister. But Jane's thoughts did not continue in this vein as Lady Matlock did come for business purposes.

"Have you interviewed the girl?"

Jane did not answer right away. She could not assess the aims of Lady Matlock with her question.

"I do not understand, I spoke to her briefly this morning and Colonel Fitzwilliam scolded the girls about an hour ago."

"Scolded them for what? Is your sister a bad influence on Georgiana?" Lady Matlock became quite put out as she had assumed the child ran off in a momentary lapse of judgment. She had not considered there might be a disastrous flaw of character and the youngest sister of a woman she had taken a great measure and found quite impressive.

"No, your ladyship, at least there was nothing dangerous. Lydia and Miss Darcy enjoy a similar age and I believe they have found comfort in each other's company. But the giggling was heard by Mr. Bingley –"

"That mopey man was here? Lacious, that man lacks a spine and will allow my nephew to direct his affairs all the way to the grave."

Jane began to cough when she nearly laughed out loud at Lady Matlock's assessment of Mr. Bingley. She could not argue with the great woman, similar sentiments very lately became her same opinion that Mr. Bingley lack the backbone that she could trust his word.

Rising from her chair, Lady Matlock glided halfway to the door before she turned around to frantically wave for Jane to get up. "Well come along, we have much to discuss."

Startled, Jane stood to follow Lady Matlock and nearly ran into the back of the woman when she stopped suddenly at the door.

"Forgive me, I am too hasty. Perhaps we ought to call for your aunt, no? Should she not be present when we ask your sister to speak for her actions?"

A quiet anger smoldered in Jane's heart as mention of her Aunt Gardiner reminded her of the letter they received that morning from Mr. Darcy. Her aunt had not only abandoned Elizabeth in Scotland, but Elizabeth had been grievously injured. If she had not found Mr. Darcy, her favorite sister might be dead. Recollection of such disloyalty did not lend consideration for her aunt or any of her elders in her family that botched the search and rescue for either of her sisters in Jane's opinion.

"No, we should not bother her. She has been unwell and she will not be in a position to help support our plans for concealment."

"As you wish." Lady Matlock accepted Jane's answer with no further questioning and led the way up the stairs to take Miss Lydia to task for the first time the young woman's life.

I did tell The Janeside on Facebook this, but since literally 18,000 people have visited my stories here on FF this month . . . .*thud* . . . okay, sorry, back now, someone passed me Mrs. Bennet's smelling salts . . . the release of The Whisky Wedding will be December 31, 2016. Annnnd, if all goes to plan (5:30 AM writing sessions M-F), I will be moving to a book always on preorder and a new release on the last day of the month always. It will be like Loot Crate, there will always be a new story on the last day of the month in all of the stores from me. Might be a new boxed set if I get in the weeds or a surprise short story, but I want to try to make it a habit of if we're starting a new month, then my readers have a new story. :)

I know, I am crazy. But it's a good kind of crazy. :) And remember, Janeside is always open to anyone who applies.


	38. Chapter 39

**IMPORTANT: There were major developmental edits made on this story and there are many changes from beginning to end. You will now notice the "Chapters" are all out of order. To know if the full story has updated or not in Fanfiction's system, 37. should read Chapter 37. If it says that in the drop down box, all changes have pushed through.**

The corrections made throughout include entirely new beginning, Jane in London from the beginning, more screen time between Jane and Richard, and about a paragraph or three added to many existing scenes. The scene at Longbourn is cut entirely (it was Chapter 7) .

Right now I am just trying to get everyone the chapters in the correct order. Everything up to this point is with the editor as I am about a week behind now on my publication schedule, but will still make the preorder date of December 31, 2016. Thank you so much everyone for your preorders and reviews. Starting around the 15th of December completely polished ready for publication chapters will start going up on my website. :)

Let the countdown BEGIN!

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

As the afternoon brought more soldiers to far edge of Old Pye Street, Sally Younge peeked through her curtains to take a new count. That morning there'd only been the two who watched her every move, but now there were suddenly five that she could see. Something had to have changed for the response. The soldiers believed they would find George Wickham, the deserter, at her home.

"Your stew is growing cold. They will keep sending soldiers to find that Wickham man whether you stand at the window or not." Gaston, Sally's hired man and sometimes paramour, took a swig of ale as he scowled at Mrs. Younge.

"Makes me less nervous is all. To count them, to know. Eventually, they're going to start interrogating and they're going to start interrogating with the hides of you and me if we don't do something about this." Mrs. Younge came to the table and tried to ignore her misguided heart still carried hope for George Wickham. By rights, she owed that man nothing. He had abandoned her at Ramsgate, ruined their plot then. And when he showed up with that mouse of a girl on her doorstep thinking she would hold here, Sally Younge gave him another thing coming. Sally was the one who had sent him to Lady Bowman's to sell that bit of muslin and come back and split the coin with her.

Of course George being George, Sally never saw him again. With coins in his pocket, the only place to find George Wickham was the nearest gambling hall and it did not suit Sally Younge to go chasing after the unreliable man all over London.

"You're coming up with a scheme. I can see it. You frown like that when you're thinking hard." Gaston slurped his stew noisily, willing to push the boundary of social niceties with his lover, but not naïve enough to think she wouldn't turn off her purse strings if he truly vexed her. It was not much, but the widow of Patrick Younge enjoyed a small income from her marriage settlement. Enough to keep a roof over their heads and three meals a day which was more than Gaston had enjoyed in France before he fled.

"I am reflecting on how to doublecross a doublecrosser." Sally Young clicked her nails on the modest table and continued to work out the particulars in her mind.

"Ah, the slippery fella, the one they're looking for."

"Aye."

"You sure you want to get mixed up with him again? Sounds like both times he got the best of you." Gaston shrugged as he helped himself to more of his supper, a meal he was not accustomed to eating so early, but doing so provided in economy with the candles. It was not his house, he could hardly argue about the timing of meals.

"Do not act so smug. His loss is your gain, you would do well to remember that." Sally Younge pulled a chunk off the soda bread and drank her own ale. She scrunched her nose up at the stew and wondered how old the meat was that her part-time Cook could find this late in the season. The fancy folk had begun their flight and the small remainders of prime cuts were harder and harder to come by for reasonable price.

"I don't see why you are protecting him." Gaston slurped the last remaining bit of his stew from his trench and burped for good measure. But his declaration added another layer to Mrs. Younge's plan.

"Are you a fool? Go ahead, walk right out there. Tell the nearest soldier you know where George Wickham is holed up. See how fast you're thrown in irons as an accomplice."

Though he was a man of broad shoulders and nearly six feet tall in stature, Gaston duLac trembled at the mention of being arrested and clapped in irons. Starvation in France had run him from his homeland, and it was by sheer luck he escaped the Law's long arm and crossed the channel.

Sally Younge picked small bits off her piece of bread and flicked them into her stew. She watched as the liquid soaked into each piece causing it to sink below the surface of the gravy and miscellaneous pieces of meat and vegetable, disappearing, never to be seen again. Finally feeling she had played all of the possibilities in her mind, she told Gaston to fetch her writing things. She had an errand for him. Gaston grumbled at the order, but rose from the chair to answer his lady's call.

A half hour later, she had a letter written and carefully coded should it fall into the wrong hands. She gave Gaston clear instructions to take a pub crawl. He was to visit four different pubs with the White Stag being the third so the soldiers would believe George Wickham to be at the last. He was to give the letter to the barkeep and tell him it was for a friend of Patrick Younge. Using her dead husband's name had always been the way Sally Young sent communication to George Wickham in the past and she hoped he kept the channel open. No one asked after a dead man, so it was an easy way for Wickham to filter messages for all sorts who might be trying to find compensation for to pay a bill he left behind.

"But what if the soldiers arrest me! I can go to no English jail." To be truthful, Gaston duLac did not want to go to any jail, English or French. But especially English. In France, at least the priests came by to give bread and water to the condemned.

"Sssh, the soldiers will not arrest you, they think I'm going to go warn George. You are just my footman. But, do this and we will have more money then you could ever dream about. Wickham had the girl, and I'm not certain how, but that rich man, Mr. Darcy, is involved somehow. Either Wickham finds a way to pay me what he promised or it will be his neck they stretch."

Left without a choice, Gaston the footman donned his livery that made him feel absolutely ridiculous and left the house like a proper servant on an errand for their employer. Just as his Sally girl told him, the soldiers paid him no mind as they stood on the corner swapping war stories and keeping an eye out for the movements of Mrs. Younge.

He slipped right by them and began whistling a tune as he headed to the first pub Mrs. Younge told him to patron. The coin she gave him made him wish he might spend the money on something else, but her instructions had been clear. Perhaps, if he had a few pennies left he would pick up a bit of chocolate for him and his lady to celebrate the plan two blackmail George Wickham. And if the tall bloke without even the courage to wear his country's regimentals came looking for violence instead of paying up? Although Mrs. Younge would be disappointed, the Frenchman would find himself mighty satisfied to pay him a pummeling.

**********  
Tomorrow is another 5:30 AM morning, but the good news is I get to write all new material after working all weekend on rewrites, fixes, and redoing the wonky system here to put the chapters in order. WOOHOO! See you all in the Janeside on Facebook at the butt crack of dawn! CHEERS!


	39. Chapter 40

No way would I leave you all off on Mrs. Younge and Gaston, yuck! Here's some Jane and Richard... and you'll have to wait a day or two for new material! Read through beginning to end to get a feel for the new story. :) I promise I read every single review you write and DO consider it. Like the complaint about Mrs. Gardiner leaving Elizabeth behind in Scotland, she really didn't want to go in the first place and in #33 here on Fanfiction (the section not the chapter name) you learn she may not have been thinking completely straight... which also explains why she was reluctant to go in the first place. Remember too she had no protection at the inn. And in a later scene we do get an apology to Elizabeth that was in the original chapter that she was angry and left then thought better and circled back, but by that time, the innkeeper tells her Elizabeth already came and left again.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

***************************

On the fourth day since Lydia's salvation, Jane descended the stairs of Darcy House utterly exasperated at her sister. Wailing from above stairs echoed in the entryway as she slid the door open without trepidation, the house gradually becoming more familiar though she was but a guest. She spied Richard Fitzwilliam pouring himself a drink.

"I did not know you had returned. Any news?" Jane walked over to the cabinet and peered over for a closer inspection of the spirits on display. Richard watched Jane with great interest. "You do not drink scotch or brandy, do you?"

Jane sighed. "I've had brandy on more than one occasion. I think a small glass might be helpful, could I trouble you?" Day by day, Jane Bennet felt more relaxed in the Colonel's company. Richard made a long face impressed with Miss Bennet's good sense. With as much as the young woman had been through, she deserved it.

Richard joined Jane in the familiar sitting area by the fireplace, the grate empty in the summer's heat. "I take it your sister has not confessed more than two days' ago?"

Jane shook her head and accepted the glass from the Colonel "She was so disrespectful to your mother, I do apologize."

Richard shrugged. "My mother can handle a spirited young woman. She's raised three boys and my sister. Believe me, Livvy is far more critical on any opinion Mother has to share."

"Oh?" Jane felt genuinely surprised. Until the interview at the Gardiner home in Cheapside, she had never defied her parents in over a score of years.

"My father spoils my sister, my mother spoils her sons. This is how all great families operate." Richard grinned to make Jane laugh as he was being sarcastic and critical of his own family.

More shouts from above stairs caused Jane to wince and run her hand over her forehead.

"I told her she was confined to our room and locked the door. I am the most unjust, unfair, spiteful sister. How can she so quickly forget that place?" Jane asked angrily and drank more of her brandy. Richard listened with a supportive expression.

"Not excusing Miss Lydia's behavior, but I've seen the lads do similar. We go through hell, men falling left and right beside you as the cannon fire booms so loudly, when you scream, you hear nothing but a buzzing silence."

Jane's eyes widened at the first account of the battlefields Richard had seen. She greatly respected the man not only for his help with her sister, but for his bravery and being a soldier. But she had never paused to consider what horrors he might have experienced in the fields of valor. She didn't have anything to say but nodded for him to continue.

"Those of us who survive are not the same, but we try fiercely to deny that change. The men talk and laugh and play cards not a few hours after the skirmish ends and those injured and dead are separated. The easiest way to avoid going mad is by pretending it never happened at all." Richard downed his scotch as Jane froze like a living statue in Mr. Darcy's parlor.

"I am a beast, forgive me. I did not mean to upset you."

Waking from her stupor, Jane slowly shook her head and it was still more than a moment before she trusted her tongue. "I cannot express how sorry I am that you lived those terrible nightmares, and I do thank you for granting me such a confession. I will strive to have greater patience with my sister."

Richard shrugged to lower the tension in the air and decided to change the subject in a selfish manner. "What about you Miss Bennet? I've seen you serve the better good these past weeks, what do you seek as your reward in life?"

Jane nervously laughed at such a personal question, but felt safe that if she did share her thoughts with Richard they would go no further. "I used to think I wanted a quiet life in Hertfordshire. Marry and live close to my family, raising my own."

Richard clucked his tongue. "Mr. Bingley," he said with no further explanation needed.

Jane set her brandy on the table, only half of it partaken. "Yes, though I wish to disabuse you of any notion that Mr. Bingley owes me an obligation. He never offered for me and while my behavior around him must seem very peculiar –"

"Please do not explain yourself, Miss Bennet. I am well aware of what my idiot cousin did to separate the two of you but I cannot bring myself so far as to believe that you wish for restoration of the previous familiarity you held with Mr. Bingley."

"You are not incorrect," Jane said with a finality and changed her mind about her brandy. As she drank, Richard lightened the mood.

"So what will become of you? Will you be the spinster sister at Pemberley? Will you take up writing? Will you stay in London as a mysterious debutante to find a better man than Mr. Bingley?"

Although the last question was meant to be a jest, Richard's voice faltered as he asked the question and Jane's eyes locked with his. It was a rhetorical question Jane could not bear to answer even as familiar as their friendship had become.

When the sound of a clatter from somewhere else in the house broke the spell between Richard Fitzwilliam and Jane Bennet, Jane quietly explained she did not know what was next for her.

"But you desire a bigger purpose?" Richard asked not fully willing to relinquish the investigation into Miss. Bennet's private thoughts and aspirations.

"Yes," Jane said rising from her seat. "Please excuse me, I wish to see what happened and check on my sister."

Richard began to stand as Jane had stood, but she fluttered her hand to signal he could remain seated. She scurried out of the room as Richard cursed himself under his breath. His selfish desire for a happiness he could not hope to have had chased Miss Bennet from the room. He was a beast, indeed.

Hey we're moving into ACT 4. :) Always got to make it worse before I can make it better. This book is like 2 romances in one! :)


	40. Chapter 41

AN: Well one benefit of slowing Mr. and Mrs. Darcy down from light speed, more cute romantic scenes as they work to overcome so much. And keep the reviews coming, the review about Mrs. G dramatically impacted my apology scene I dictated this morning. :) I read all fo the reviews, THANK YOU!

**********

The closer the Darcys traveled to London all excitement to reach their destination evaporated inside the carriage. Town after town, the English countryside passed by Elizabeth Darcy much as it did on the way to Scotland, and she found the same feelings of dread and anticipation were her constant companion. More than two weeks from when she set out from Longbourn to help save her family's name, Elizabeth Bennet failed to find her sister but managed to find a husband.

"Do you think the manner in which we wed will affect your family? I've heard tales of families cutting off couples that elope as punishment." Elizabeth leaned her head against Fitzwilliam's shoulder, taking advantage of one new relief to her anxieties and that was physical comfort from her husband.

"Other than never raising hopes in a dance partner, I am not very concerned what society thinks of my wife or me." Mr. Darcy had enjoyed his wife's company for the trip thus far, and now read over correspondence he received back in Scotland that he would need to reply to upon arriving at Darcy House. "I only regret to say that after the matters with Miss Lydia are settled, I don't believe there will be time for a proper wedding trip. We will be needed at Pemberley before the beginning of the harvest."

"I believe I've had my fill of travel, sir."

Darcy interrupted his task with his letters and looked down at his wife thoughtfully. Despite spending so many days in each other's company, the two verbal sparring partners of Netherfield Park still struggled to understand the other. Before he read too much into Elizabeth's words, Mr. Darcy took her advice from three days ago and asked her to elaborate.

"Forgive me; I did not think about how taxing all this must be for you. If you should like to stay in London for a period of time, I could travel to Pemberley without you." Darcy's heart ached as Elizabeth pulled away from him, a gesture that initially made him feel bereft. Quickly, he added, "but that would not be my wish."

Elizabeth twisted in her seat and looked directly into her husband's eyes. "If we can avoid it, I should dearly love never to travel separately. When it is time to go to Pemberley, I shall be the first one in the carriage!" Elizabeth offered him a shy smile, and Darcy rewarded her with a kiss upon her cheek. The skin where Fitzwilliam's lips touched tingled and Mrs. Darcy slanted her eyes. "I do not believe that peck was enough satisfaction sir."

"Oh?" Mr. Darcy enjoyed their verbal sparring so much more now that he might kiss Elizabeth when she became too impertinent, "and what would Mrs. Darcy suggest I do to remedy the situation?" He grinned as Elizabeth leaned into him, the tall frame of Fitzwilliam Darcy leaning away from her in response until finally when she opened her eyes from frustration, he swooped in and kissed her on the lips!

A bump in the road jostled the carriage, and the amorous session came to a close as Elizabeth cried out in terror and clenched her eyes shut. Darcy instinctively thrust the letters to the bench across from him and wrapped his wife in his arms. He whispered soothing words of comfort as Elizabeth willed her breathing to come to a more regulated pace. When the episode of fear was over, Elizabeth felt very embarrassed.

"I apologize for the imposition. I am doing my best not to be afraid, but my instincts feel strung too tightly when I ride in a carriage. Then every bump and turn remind me of that day."

Darcy inhaled through his nose as he again kissed his wife's temple, this time lingering the kiss for as long as he was able.

"Did I ever tell you I fell from my horse when I was a young man? Tis true, it happened in Scotland on the fields of Broadmeadow. Doctor Rowley reminded me of the episode in my first interview with him concerning you."

"But it did not make you terrified of horses." Elizabeth shivered thinking of yet another occupation she did not relish doing. She very much preferred to walk.

"That is incorrect. As soon as I recovered in a few weeks, it was my mother who took me out early in the morning despite her illness, and she showed me a foal learning to walk. The new birth stumbled and crashed to the ground. But each time, he reset his wobbly legs and tried again. The demonstration was not lost on me. We fall, she had said, and we rise again."

A moment of silence over such an intimate share descended upon the carriage and Elizabeth thought what a remarkable woman lady and must have been. She hoped when children came along for her and Fitzwilliam she would be an equally doting mother.

"I believe I understand your sentiments, sir," Elizabeth said with no sarcasm in her voice but gratitude.

"Yes, my mother's point registered quickly with me as well. But it was still an entire month before I could mount a horse and not feel as if my heart would not beat out of my chest. I put on a brave face, much like you, and silently suffered. I cannot go back and change that suffering, but it is not what I would hope for my wife."

"So you do not think me weak for being terrified of a pebble in the road?" Elizabeth's teasing nature returned as more and more time had passed since her episode.

"Mrs. Darcy," Fitzwilliam pressed his forehead against his wife's despite the rocking cadence of carriage springs. He held his balance there with slight pressure. "I am terrified of a pebble in the road while riding in a carriage, and I was not even the one to experience the entire vehicle toppling to the side."

As the carriage came to another stop, Elizabeth sighed and the two restored a respectable distance between them. When Elizabeth looked out the window once more, she saw more people and a number of carriages in stark contrast to the earlier stops in the day that were practically deserted. It was to be expected the closer they neared London the busier the roads would be. When at last the vehicle made its wide circle towards the back of the property, Elizabeth looked at her husband one last time before they would descend from the equipage.

"I do so regret we could not go directly to Pemberley from Broadmeadow. I know that is a great inconvenience for you, sir, but my family does appreciate it."

"Mrs. Darcy, my dear Mrs. Darcy," Fitzwilliam played up his tone as he prepared to make a lofty announcement. "As my wife, it is now my family, as well."

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 _I figure we should start with a sigh. :) I cannot believe this story is already 62,000 words in my Scrivener and I have so much more to write. 2.5 years ago I never though I would write something longer than 80k, but there appears to be a first time for everything! :)_

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	41. Chapter 42

I couldn't resist, another chapter. But after this feeling eye strain, so going to lay down for a bit.  
XOXOXO

Elizabeth Ann West

P.S. I recorded this yesterday, today when I edited, I nearly spit out my tea at what Mary said. You'll see . . . let me know if it was such a moment for you as well in the reviews. Smooches!

"Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet!" Francine Bennet pounded on the door to her husband's study and demanded entry as she frantically waved the letter from her daughter Jane. Her younger daughters, the serious Mary, and the frivolous Kitty, stood next to her peppering her with questions about the contents.

"Mama, what is it? Have they found Lydia?"

"Will she be punished?" Mary revealed where her interests lie.

"We are saved! We are saved, I tell you." Mrs. Bennet cried happy tears as she hugged both of her daughters, a sign of affection that surprised them equally, before turning her attentions back at the door. She renewed her pounding. "Mr. Bennet!"

Her next knock halted in mid-air when the man himself appeared after a hasty opening.

"How can I be of service, Madam?" Since returning from London a week ago, Mr. William Bennet had kept to his study. The solitary confinement suited his need for avoidance of his family that he had served most abominably. He hoped against hope each day that Elizabeth would come, deciding each night at dinner that the following day he would mount a search for his other daughter. But as each new day dawned, the feeling of failure weighed too heavily upon his shoulders for him to find the wherewithal to accomplish even the most minor task.

"We are saved! Jane writes that Lizzie has married Mr. Darcy. Our Lizzie!"

"Mr. Darcy?" Kitty wrinkled her nose, "but I thought she did not like him?"

"Kitty hush, whether she likes him or not is a trifling. She's married to a man worth ten thousand a year!"

"I have heard similar reports, but until we have a letter from Lizzie, I caution everyone in this household to not speak either of your sisters Elizabeth or Lydia, until I have said so. There will be no more trips to Meryton and no visiting with the Lucases. Am I understood?" Mr. Bennet's eyes blazed with the angry set down neither of his daughters had ever witnessed.

"Yes, Papa," both girls replied in unison.

Mrs. Bennet looked at her husband in horror. "What can you mean, husband? Of course we must go to Meryton. The girls must have new gowns made and we must leave for London at our earliest convenience. Jane says so in her letter. And they have found Lydia!" Mrs. Bennet flapped the letter in husband's face like a fan with great indignance.

The news of Lydia's rescue were read aloud by Mrs. Bennet increasing in thrilling detail from the perspective of her younger daughters. Jane and a mysterious Colonel swooped down in the dark of night on a house of ill-repute, paying hush money to the staff. It all sounded more enthralling than a novel!

As Mrs. Bennet continued her jubilation with her younger daughters and began making promises to them that they would leave at once for London and join in their sister's triumphs, Mr. Bennet slapped his hand forcibly upon his desk. All giggling and female chitchat ceased immediately.

"There will be no leaving this house, by anyone, until I say so."

Kitty and Mary trembled with fear at the behavior of a father they did not recognize. But Mrs. Bennet, for all of her nerves, would not suffer her husband's foul mood. Not with a daughter married to a man worth ten thousand pounds a year. Coolly, she sent both of her younger daughters upstairs.

"Kitty, Mary, leave us."

"But Mama—" Kitty started, never witnessing such a row between her parents.

"I said leave us, girls. Do not fret, your father and I must discuss details. Details! Shoo!" Mrs. Bennet waved her hands until her daughters reluctantly began to go above stairs. Then she walked into her husband's study and closed the door behind her.

Mr. Bennet slunk off to his desk chair and collapsed. All of the joints of the chair and the man creaked from the strain.

"Do not try to persuade me, Madam. I have made my mistakes, I review them each hour. We have two daughters safe at home and that is where they will remain."

Mrs. Bennet clucked her tongue and handed the letter from their eldest daughter over to her husband. "Did you know, Mr. Bennet, did you know that the library at Pemberley is said to hold more volumes than any other private residence in the kingdom? It's true, Miss Bingley told me all about it."

Mr. Bennet stared at the lines of his eldest daughter's even handwriting, picking out key phrases about Lydia and Elizabeth throughout. His wife prattled on and on about the wonders of Pemberley but Mr. Bennet's heart sank further into despair.

Finally, not able to endure any more torment, he spoke up. "And what is your point? Yes, the grounds of Pemberley this, the number of rooms and windows, all houses may boast some number of them."

Mrs. Bennet twirled around in her husband's office and looked at him directly in the eye. "And would you not like to be invited to visit such a home with a library ten times this size? If we are not in London when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy arrive it will be the same as a direct cut. And I will not have it, Mr. Bennet, I will not." Mrs. Bennet stamped her foot to emphasize that she was not going to fall victim to his wool-gathering.

Pulled from his misery, Mr. Bennet began to process his wife's words. Silly she may be and worrisome over the slightest thing, the woman he married was not without an intelligence of her own kind. Fanny Bennet put out the best table in all of the surrounding county and maneuvered the waters of society a shark disguised as a dolphin.

"If Elizabeth has married Mr. Darcy, and I am not so sure I fully believe it until I hear from our daughter herself, then I agree with your sentiments that we ought to be in London for their arrival."

Mrs. Bennet began to squeal with glee until Mr. Bennet held up a hand.

"Do not become too fixed on the idea. First, you must write your sister and brother and humbly request an invitation to stay at their home. I do not wish for the Gardiners to feel imposed upon." Mr. Bennet did not add that he and Mr. Gardiner parted on horrible terms.

Mrs. Bennet sniffed at her husband's demand. A small obstacle of writing a letter would not stop her plans. She marched over to his desk and retrieved her letter from their eldest daughter.

"I shall write to them directly. And you can send it by an express rider." Mrs. Bennet quit Mr. Bennet's study before he could argue the expense and set off to tell her daughters the good news. She was so determined, she penned the letter that very night.

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Well, there is nothing quite like the healing powers of ten thousand a year, is there? Right, more tomorrow!


	42. Chapter 43

AN: Thank you again for all of the reviews! I promise there are deliberate reasons I keep most of Lydia off stage and that is because in the original P&P Austen herself was careful not to make the story be about Lydia and Wickham. We get told it happened, Mr. Bennet left London BEFORE she was found, then chapters later it's revealed that Mr. Darcy made them marry. Then Lydia comes to Longbourn like nothing was amiss. I don't have exactly that ending, but I am being careful in not making this Lydia's story, and sometimes not knowing the exact words, makes a scene more powerful in a reader's mind than I could ever hope to write. :) Keep the reviews coming! They're like putting new batteries into my writing machine each morning :) :) :) HUGS!

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

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With a mutual penchant for early rising, the Darcys arrived at their town home in London by midmorning on their sixth day of travel. If they had expected a calm welcoming, they would be disappointed as Lady Matlock, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, and Jane Bennet already held conference in the parlor.

With no time to take in her surroundings, Elizabeth Darcy rushed into the parlor and slipped to a stop when she spied her sister. Equally overcome with jubilation, Jane, too, rose without ceremony and the two sisters embraced.

"I am so happy to see you!" Both sisters exchanged, laughing at the simultaneous cheer. Richard stood and greeted his cousin with a handshake and a backhand smack across his chest.

"Fitzwilliam Henry Darcy, a man to elope? Why didn't you tell me old man so I could've taken odds at the club?" Richard and Darcy laughed as the two Bennet sisters quickly caught one another up in their misadventures.

"Lydia is here? You found her?" Elizabeth exclaimed turning her head to look at Darcy with great hope and then back to her sister Jane.

"I did not find her so much as we owe the Colonel here."

"Nonsense, your sister Miss Bennet, is the true hero. Without her I might not have recovered Miss Lydia from Lady Bowman's."

Darcy raised an eyebrow at the mention of Lady Bowman's and Richard gave a quick nod.

Feeling left out, Lady Matlock finally rose from her chair to the stuttering of her nephew.

"Aunt Regina," Darcy gave a low bow. "May I introduce to you my wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Elizabeth, this is my aunt, Lady Regina Fitzwilliam, the Countess of Matlock." Elizabeth swiftly dipped into a low curtsy.

"Kind of the two of you to join us. But I'm afraid all of our work has been for naught. Your sister is a complete flirt, disrespectful, a common gutter snipe. I was just discussing with Richard she should be sent away so that she may not pollute Georgiana's mind any further."

Elizabeth Darcy did not wish to insult Mr. Darcy's relations, however, she did not offer a blanket pardon for those with a title to malign her family members either. Just as a fiery Lizzie was about to argue, Jane squeezed her sister's hand.

"When we recovered Lydia, she was inconsolable. I had great pity, but after a good meal and some time with another young woman, I'm afraid she is much the same as we knew at home. And she has affronted Lady Matlock most grievously."

"She told me it was none of my concern where she had been or why she had run off with that man! Said she would speak to Mr. Wickham and no other!" Lady Matlock, still incensed at the disastrous interviews with the girl vented her spleen to the Darcys.

Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "I apologize, aunt, that is unacceptable." Lady Matlock, slightly satisfied, sniffed.

"As I explained to Miss Bennet and also to my mother here, Miss Lydia's behavior is not entirely surprising. Do you remember how unattached Georgiana behaved after her ordeal?"

"Georgiana is not the one ruined!" Lady Matlock emphasized.

"Pardon me, your ladyship, I, too, apologize for my younger sister's appalling behavior and insulting speech. But if my sister Lydia is indeed ruined, but for the grace of secrecy, the same could be said for your niece. If anyone knew of Ramsgate, I am afraid they would share the same fate." Elizabeth Darcy stood her ground as she looked to Jane. "However, I will join you in another interview with Lydia. And we shall bring her to accepting responsibility for her stupidity and find out the particulars for further plans."

As Jane heartily agreed with her married sister, Elizabeth flicked her eyes to her husband's expression. She worried that speaking ill against his sister in defense of her own would anger Mr. Darcy, but nothing could be further from the truth. Fitzwilliam Darcy stood in awe of the strength of character and Elizabeth Darcy, strengths he had long admired and found most attractive. But there were more pressing matters to be discussed and he would support his wife's aims as much as he could.

"Aunt, Richard? My study? I should be most grateful if you both can tell me more about what we know so far. Agreed?"

Richard nodded and clapped his cousin on the shoulder. Lady Matlock scowled but took her precedent to leave the room first and head towards the back of the house to Darcy's study.

When only Jane and Elizabeth remained in the parlor, the sisters found need to embrace once more.

"You are married!" Jane cried, "Are you happy, Lizzie? Truly happy?"

Elizabeth shyly nodded. She remembered how happy she had been since being made a wife, and could not help sighing with pure contentment. But then Elizabeth's expression of joy began to falter.

"Where is father?"

Jane frowned. "He returned to Longbourn. Said he would receive his married daughter and her husband there on your way back to London."

"But we did not stop at Longbourn! We came from the west!"

Jane gasped. "Oh, I am afraid he will feel slighted."

Elizabeth's stomach growled as she had not eaten anything since that morning. When she had been alone with Fitzwilliam and making plans for their travel, she did not feel guilty for avoiding her own home. But now answering to her elder sister, she felt rotten.

"I was afraid if we called there mother would become distracted and not allow us to leave and join the search for Lydia. And I thought father was here, in London."

Jane nodded sympathetically. "He wished for me to return as well, but I defied him, Lizzie." Elizabeth gasped as Jane held her head slightly higher. "I was not rude, but I did tell him I would stay at Aunt and Uncle Gardiner's . . ."

At the mention of their aunt, Elizabeth scowled.

"Forgive me, I should not mention her. I did not learn of her abandoning you until after I left their household to come here."

Elizabeth shook her head. "There is so much to tell and talk over, but we have a task to perform." She finally looked around the parlor and marveled at the stately decor of the room. Another new house she was to be mistress and had not even seen her room.

"Lydia is in my room, we can go see her and I think together, make her see reason."

"Yes, yes, by the by, what is the plan to cover her disgrace? Is that even possible?"

Jane chewed her lower lip as she stalled in telling Elizabeth the truth.

"Oh dear, are we sending her away?" Elizabeth worried, understanding the necessity of such a response, but her heat breaking just the same over the loss of a sister.

Jane shook her head. "If Lydia can behave, the story is she left Brighton to try to rescue you. To keep you from foolishly eloping."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped open and she inhaled large amounts of air in a hurried manner that swelled her breast to near capacity again and again.

"I am so sorry, Lizzie. No one wanted to blame you and Mr. Darcy, but Lady Matlock believed if we have one scandal that ended in marriage, we should use that to cover up the scandal that did not result in marriage. And there is a Duke upset, and well, I could not argue with their sentiments at the time. I was only one person outnumbered by three."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. She began to feel a niggle of pain just behind her eyes, the first warning of a monstrous headache. "Mr. Darcy's aunt is very wise. Oh, how I wish this mess was not so very tangled and I could just sit and tell you all that happened to me."

Jane held her sister's hand and squeezed it, a sign of affection that brought Elizabeth back to the present. "Listen to me, worried about my trials when I am happily married and safe. Come, let's try to do the same for Lydia, even if she doesn't fully comprehend her danger."

"Perhaps we ought to threaten sending her away if she does not cooperate?" Jane asked as the two women finally began to leave the parlor.

Elizabeth Darcy laughed. "You have changed, sister. You once were so gentle and unwilling to think the worst of anyone!" Elizabeth found it ironic her sister Jane was leading the way though she was Mrs. Darcy and this was one of her homes.

"I think we both have changed." Jane said finally, "but for the better."

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Got another chapter for everyone this morning and you will see why the Bennets HAVE to come to London. :)

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

P.S. If you want to help be on the typo patrol when this story gets posted on my blog next week in polished form, join the Janeside on Facebook :) We have tea and biscuits and lots of fun in there! Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to every reader who has preordered this book on Amazon, Nook, iBooks, or Google Play. I get to see those orders as they come in and it's very humbling. Thank you. Right, that's not a tear, it's allergies. :) Got to buck up and get writing.


	43. Chapter 44

Away from his wife, the fatigue and stress of the last two weeks appeared visibly etched across Darcy's face. The paling of his skin, darker circles under his eyes, Richard began a low whistle as he looked at his cousin.

"If that's what marriage does to a man, count me out." Richard held his hands up performing a convincing version at Shakespeare's Benedick. Darcy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"When you travel as fast as you can from Broadmeadow to London with a wife petrified of riding in a carriage, you will understand."

"What on earth were you thinking, Nephew?" Lady Matlock bristled at the casual nature of both her son and her nephew when there were very serious matters to discuss. Darcy's eyes blinked at his aunt as if her words were too difficult to decipher. So she continued. "Aligning yourself with that family! But it is not too late, nobody knows of your flight to Scotland, we can get the whole marriage annulled."

Fitzwilliam Darcy's jaw froze at a sharp angle as he held his tongue against his aunt for a moment. Richard watched the anger rise in his cousin's chest replacing the pale skin with a healthy shade of red.

"Mother… I do not believe you comprehend the depths to which Fitzwilliam has chased Miss Elizabeth." Richard began brokering the peace, but Darcy's anger spewed forth with no less force than a volcanic eruption.

"Anulled?" he spat. He began pacing to temper his words with physical activity. "Do you think if I had any intention of annulling my marriage I would have rushed here to London or set your son up with the funds and means to find Miss Lydia and that scoundrel?" Darcy bellowed.

"Be sensible, that family is a disaster. The youngest sister shows no remorse, the eldest," Lady Matlock slanted her eyes at her son and pursed her lips before continuing, "also seems to have no sense of decorum, spending weeks walking the streets of London on her own to search for her sister before joining your cousin here to fetch that creature from a brothel!"

"So he sold her?" Darcy frowned with a grim expression as Richard slowly nodded his head. "Then it is the worst that we feared." Darcy found himself with the overwhelming urge to yawn and tried to minimize the gesture.

"So you see then, an annulment is the only answer." Lady Matlock thought erroneously that the full explanation of Lydia Bennet's fall would persuade her nephew.

"There will be no annulment!" Darcy shouted as he crossed his arms over his chest. He refused to break his gaze with her and stared her down until finally the woman frowned and looked away.

"Besides, she may very well carry my child as we speak." Lady Matlock's eyes widened as Richard congratulated Darcy who waved his hand. "No, you mistake me, there is no indication that Elizabeth is with child, only that it is merely possible because as I say, we are husband and wife." Darcy said the last statement with a finality that his aunt finally accepted.

Knowing when she has lost the battle but still needed to fight a war, Lady Matlock calmly took a seat and snapped her fingers for her son and her wayward nephew to come over and sit down next to her. "Good. You have passed that test." The two men looked at at one another but Regina Fitzwilliam did not wait for them to keep up.

"Now, let's discuss how we shall handle this mess. Since you are intent on keeping her, is there any reason that your marriage would not be valid?" Lady Matlock asked the question suspecting much, but did not have concrete information in hand to push the point. The Bennet family held no reputation in town, there was no way to know if any of the sisters were already married, or some other such problem.

Darcy grit his teeth and rubbed the back of his head, dragging his hand down his neck and pulling the fatigue skin. "There is. Her accident robbed her of her memory in a few select cases."

His aunt look at him expectantly to continue.

"Elizabeth does not remember marrying me." Where Darcy received a sympathetic look from his cousin, he received no such assurance from his aunt.

"That is no matter. You married over the anvil, it is hardly acceptable in our circles. We shall hold the ball on the 29th and you can get married in the church on the 30th. The two of you will go to the Archbishop and see to the special license and I will begin preparations for the ball." Lady Matlock rose from her seat, forcing her son and nephew to do the same when they just found their own. As Richard teased Darcy quietly, Lady Matlock led them to the entryway deciding she would leave the young people to their own devices. Further discussion came to a halt as Elizabeth and Jane practically ran down the stairs at Darcy House. The tumultuous noise gained all of their notice, both Richard and Darcy out of concern and Lady Matlock out of censure.

"Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth cried as Jane called for her colonel. Both men extended a hand to assist their respective ladies down the last steps as Elizabeth and Jane conveyed the same message. They had interviewed Lydia, ruthlessly, as sisters can only exact against other sisters, and finally the youngest gave up some information.

"The White Stag! We were so close, Lydia says he stays at the White Stag!" Jane told the Colonel as Elizabeth nodded to support Jane's claims. Jane continued.

"When Mr. Wickham dumped her off at that horrid place, he told her where to go if they mistreated her. Lydia being Lydia had told them off at the first sign of what was to be her fate and that is why they locked her away." Jane finished, out of breath.

Darcy and Richard quickly conferred and added the errand of going after Wickham before they sought the Archbishop. Elizabeth frowned.

"Why the Archbishop?"

"My aunt, will host the ball on the 29th and if you're willing, we shall marry once more in front of our family and friends in the Church of England on the 30th." Fitzwilliam asked watching Elizabeth's face closely, but the woman was in such a state of shock, she did not respond one way or the other.

"And what should we do about Lydia?" Jane asked looking furtively at the Colonel, but it was Lady Matlock who stepped forward.

"Richard, Fitzwilliam, see to your business. And ladies, we shall go to the dressmakers."

"Thank you very much Lady Matlock for your consideration, but I am not sure –" Elizabeth Darcy began but the other woman cut her off.

"Fetch Ms. Lydia and Georgiana. We all must be seen in public now that you have returned to London. Do not forget we have a lie to give birth to."

Elizabeth felt the room about to spin and feared she might faint. The ache in her head began to pound furiously behind her eyes and she reached out for Fitzwilliam's arm. "I understand you perfectly but as I have been traveling for six days straight, I must beg a rest. Tomorrow if the offer still stands, I will visit any and all destinations you wish."

Lady Matlock took inventory of the young woman so recently married to her nephew as Fitzwilliam leaned closer to Elizabeth to hear her whisper in his ear. A brilliant tactician, Lady Matlock took Mrs. Darcy at her word.

"Fine, tomorrow then, I shall hold you to that. I shall return home and send out cards."

A heavy stone of guilt and shame dropped deeply somewhere in Elizabeth's stomach and she felt hollow. Her husband squeezed her hand discreetly and Elizabeth looked up at him.

"It shall all be well. I promise. But now, Madam, we must act on your information and I shall see you this evening. I am sorry that I cannot show you to your room, but perhaps Miss Bennet?" Darcy looked to his sister by marriage who grinned to convey she would help Elizabeth.

Darcy bowed and he and Richard took their leave. Elizabeth waited at the window with Jane to watch them mount their horses, both saying a silent prayer for their safety.

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Well Lady Matlock is a force to be reckoned with, but then again, so is Mrs. Darcy. Wonder what social torment Lady M has up her sleeve for tomorrow . . . mwahahaha.  
Right, time for me to write more scenes. :)

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	44. Chapter 45

Fear, my old friend, is making me doubt the end of this story will make everyone happy. I KNOW that's craziness, so forgive me as I post chapters and I will be posting ALL of the story before publication, and I just am going to trust that no one will steal the story before I publish it at the end of this month. :) If anything storyline wise sticks out, let me know in the reviews. Also, typos you find I will make sure get corrected in the final version. I just need to buckle up and get this story written. I hope you understand.

XOXOXO,

Elizabeth Ann West

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Mr. and Mrs. Darcy awoke early their first morning as a couple in their London town home. As Elizabeth fluttered her eyes to spy her husband by her side and once more feel the comfort of his embrace, she yawned and stretched and rolled over to nestle her back against his chest. Her stirrings alerted him to the new day and he softly moaned.

"You are unhappy this morning?" Elizabeth asked, her voice slow with drowsiness.

Darcy groaned even louder and squeezed his arms around his wife. "I ache all over. While you rested, Richard and I rushed off to The White Stag to find remnants of a ghost. That innkeeper became the most expensively worthless informant, only to say the man left with no trace of where he was going. But we did pick up the alias he uses." Mr. Darcy droned on about all of the details they had found. Added to the sister interview of Lydia, together they formed a rough timeline of Lydia's flight from Brighton.

Upon leaving the safety of Colonel Forster and his wife, Lydia confessed she did not wait long to bestow her favors upon Mr. Wickham. For a week they remained in London, and he kept saying he needed to see to his business to find the funds for them to continue to Scotland. Lydia began selling her belongings, which kept her in his good graces as well as her eager company. But when the money ran out, Wickham took her to Lady Bowman's and lied to Lydia about the nature of the place. He stated that Lady Bowman was a good friend. Lydia, still believing that Wickham loved her, accepted him leaving as it was not the first time and he'd always come back before. But once he left, Lady Bowman informed Lydia of her new position in life and Lydia would have none of it. For three days she was locked away until Jane and Richard happened to rescue her from her captors who thus far had done little more then keep her hungry and eager for relief.

"Well at least it is lucky that we have recovered Lydia before she was too hurt. Though, I don't feel she has learned a lesson at all as she still pines for Mr. Wickham." Elizabeth reasoned as Darcy finished off the discussion with tales of Wickham running up gambling debts and leaving without paying the bill.

"Yes, but . . ." Darcy agreed tentatively. Elizabeth heard the hesitation in his voice.

"She is no worse than Georgiana. And if she does not fall with child, no one shall ever have to know."

Darcy kept his silence as there was nothing he could say without inciting anger from his wife on the subject. When it became clear that silence also spoke volumes, Elizabeth nudged her body away from her husband to no longer feel his touch. Fitzwilliam moved closer to deny his wife her protest which resulted another nudge away. Again, Fitzwilliam moved closer to his wife, refusing to give up their physical contact over the subject of their sisters. At the very edge of the bed, Elizabeth grew exasperated and tried to throw the covers back but Darcy captured her arm and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Please do not let us argue over Mr. Wickham and your sister. I beg of you," Mr. Darcy asked, earnestly.

Elizabeth grumbled something incoherent as Fitzwilliam pressed his nose to the tender space between her shoulder blades much as she had done to him many mornings ago.

They lay contentedly in the space between half slumber and half awake until it was Mr. Darcy who began to feel restless. He kissed his wife's bare shoulder and rolled away. "I am to see my solicitor today, and you made promises to my aunt."

Elizabeth groaned and kept her eyes closed as she rolled toward her husband while he retreated back to his side of the bed.

"Be grateful it is with my Aunt Regina, and not Aunt Catherine." Darcy again tried to inspire his wife to wake up.

"Can you not tell her I need another day of rest?" Elizabeth asked with a pouting lip.

"You did not appear to need such rest last night, Mrs. Darcy." Fitzwilliam shared a smile he reserved only for the company of his wife and Elizabeth giggled at the man's teasing.

But then Elizabeth had a thought and she furrowed her eyebrows. "How very quick, husband, to already have an appointment with your solicitor?" Elizabeth's words seemed to find issue with Darcy's meeting with his legal representative but in fact she was not fully happy with the rush of their English wedding plans without much of her own input. She did not wish to cause trouble over such a minor inconvenience of feeling left out, especially when she heartily agreed with the outcome, and so she posed her dislike as a question of her husband's efficiency.

Darcy rolled to his back and tucked his arms behind his head to stretch out once more from the fatigue of yesterday's activities.

"I am late to be truthful. I wrote to him the first night you came to Broadmeadow to make arrangements for you just in case things did not go to plan, and then again after we married. He expected me days ago."

"Plans for me?" Elizabeth wiggled underneath the bed covers at the flattery of her husband's consideration.

Darcy pivoted his head in the cradle of his hands. "I would never see you not provided for, Elizabeth. Did you not think you had a settlement after we married in Scotland?"

Elizabeth blinked and twisted her lips to prevent herself from feeling overwhelmed with emotion. It still stung she did not remember clearly so much of their time at Broadmeadow apart from the last two days.

"I, that is, I did not know if . . . " Her voice trailed off as Fitzwilliam half rose from the bed to study her face intently.

"Memory?"

She blushed and tried to look away from having to admit that still her most wanted memory did not exist, the one of them getting married.

"Fear not, we shall correct that, Mrs. Darcy. And that is why you must rise and ready yourself for my aunt. Regina Fitzwilliam does nothing by halves." Darcy began to tickle his wife in hopes of a new activity before they both met the demands of the day when a series of doors closing and hurried footsteps could be heard in the hall. A shrill voice pierced the air that put dread in heart of both Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.

"Jane? Lydia? Lizzie? Do not put your hands on me, I am Mrs. Bennet! My girls, my girls are here!"

Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth who looked back at him with her face frozen in horror.

"Why is she here?" Elizabeth hissed, wondering how on earth her mother came to London and called at Darcy House at so early an hour.

"I know not, but she is your mother, so it is not me she is looking for. I suggest you dress faster." Mr. Darcy smirked as Elizabeth hunted for her robe and he pulled the bell cord the appropriate number of times.

He could not help but laugh at his wife's haste, as more of Mrs. Bennet's shouts could be heard from down below. It was ungenerous, but as Darcy waited for his valet and Elizabeth left his room to see her maid in her room, he half hoped Mr. Cross would throw Mrs. Bennet out, and half prayed his butler did not. It amused Fitzwilliam Darcy that with his mother by marriage, there was simply no good outcome either way.

Well Mrs. Bennet sure does know how to make an entrance.


	45. Chapter 46

This scene was tough to write, but I hope I made a boring synopsis more interesting . . .

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When Mrs. Darcy entered the parlor to find her mother sitting with Jane and Lydia, her smile faded at the clear disapproval on her mother's face.

"What are you wearing? Does not Mr. Darcy give you an allowance for new gowns? That is one of your oldest frocks." Mrs. Bennet expressed her dislike with no concern for hurting her daughter's feelings. Self-conscious, Elizabeth looked down at the plum frock, one of her favorites, and scowled.

"Mr. Darcy's aunt is coming today and we are to go to the dressmakers. I chose to wear a gown that fits well." Elizabeth glided to the arm chair by the fire, a piece of furniture that was a favorite of aforementioned visitor expected to arrive at any moment.

"I was just telling Mama how we intend to explain Lydia's trip away from Brighton." Jane began a steering of the conversation to the most important topic of the family's unified story as to what occurred over the last three weeks.

"I do not agree. Why should my Lydia not be married as well? Why have we not found Mr. Wickham? I'm certain the man could be worked upon." Mrs. Bennet glared at Elizabeth who could not believe she was hearing correctly.

"Lydia deserves to be married?" Elizabeth barely managed to keep her ire in check. Lydia beamed from the sofa next to her mother as it was clear she had put forth her agenda before Elizabeth arrived.

"She loves Mr. Wickham. And you ran away as well, Lizzie. Do not put on airs that you should be above your sister." Mrs. Bennet continued to complain that more should be done to locate Mr. Wickham and to arrange a marriage for Lydia. Elizabeth had no words to even address her mother's most illogical and outlandish plan and so there was little to do but to let her mother exhaust herself.

Mr. Cross, the butler of Darcy house, entered the parlor to announce the arrival of Lady Matlock. Dressed impeccably from her fine shoes to her perfectly coiffed hair, Lady Matlock stood with the quiet power a title conveyed much the same as she had the first day Jane Bennet met her. Her steely gaze fell upon Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth hastened to make the introductions.

"I just explained to my daughter that this entire scheme denying my Lydia her Mr. Wickham would not suffice. Once we find Mr. Wickham, the two of them can marry as well. In fact, if we hurry, they can join Lizzie and Mr. Darcy in a double wedding!" Mrs. Bennet's head jerked to look at all of her daughter with the choreography of a squawking parrot.

Lady Matlock's patience wore off after an initial state of shock muck like Elizabeth's and Jane's. She glanced at the two older daughters for a silent conferring of their sentiments. Recognizing two women unable to respectfully contradict their mother, Regina Fitzwilliam put herself forward as the volunteer to squash Mrs. Bennet's delusions.

"Mrs. Bennet, your opinion on the matter is impossible. When Lieutenant Wickham is found he will be hung for his crime of desertion. Unless you intend to make your daughter a widow at the age of sixteen, she will not be getting married to that scoundrel."

Lydia began to throw a fit but Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair and pointed a finger at her younger sister. "Do not!" Elizabeth warned, using her finger to remind Lydia of the last time she tried to throw a fit in front of Jane and Elizabeth. It was not pleasant, and Elizabeth had never found reason to strike any of her other sisters before, but she would make another exception if Lydia needed it once more. Lydia sniffed and began to smooth her gown as her mother took up the cry over Mr. Wickham's fate.

"But there must be circumstances, an exception made! Mr. Darcy could apply for mercy, could he not?"

"Mama, why would you wish for Lydia to marry a man who sold her to a brothel? Are you so blinded that you do not think of our welfare after the wedding? We cannot marry at any cost." Jane asked her question in good faith. Her mother pulled out her handkerchief and began to further play the victim as she felt it was very unfair the entire room had turned against her.

Mrs. Darcy rose to put a stop to the theatrics and for a time, her mother ceased in her complaints. "I have an appointment that I must keep, but I am certain we will talk more about this issue at a later date." Elizabeth looked to Lady Matlock for assistance in her escape, but there was to be none.

"I'm afraid that you and Miss Lydia have appointments to keep. And you Miss Bennet." Lady Matlock flicked her eyes to the eldest Bennet sister who gently shook her head.

"I am not a part of the deception, I should like to remain here and comfort my mother," Jane explained.

"Comfort me? What? I am not going to stay behind! These are my daughters. Wherever it is you are taking them milady, I shall go!" Mrs. Bennet stood from the sofa suddenly much recovered from her earlier cries and Lady Matlock flinched. But the grand lady recovered quickly from being taken aback.

"I'm afraid that's impossible again, as when I sent my card out I told my friends to expect a party of four. You would make a party of five." Lady Matlock coolly tried to outwit Mrs. Bennet but she had underestimated her adversary.

"But she does not wish to go. You'll stay here, Jane, won't you? I shall escort Lydia and Lizzie and you can keep Miss Darcy company when she comes downstairs." Mrs. Bennet negotiated a way for her to not miss the social events a Countess had planned for her daughters.

"My niece employs Mrs. Annesley to keep her company," Lady Matlock again countered Mrs. Bennet's aims.

Jane sighed. "I apologize, my lady, but I am truly not up to going with you today on the errands you have planned. I will refresh one of my existing gowns for the ball." Jane held her own and Lady Matlock accepted that she was outflanked when Elizabeth shook her head no at her ladyship in solidarity with Jane.

The Bennets were a true nuisance, in Regina Fitzwilliam's opinion, and if they continued much longer in this discussion they would be late, which was more unacceptable than a change in the party.

"Very well, you shall be fitted tomorrow when I take Georgiana. Now, it is of the utmost importance that we are clear as crystal there is to be no mention of Mr. Wickham today. You have only one daughter who ran away to get married, and it is a love match." Lady Matlock stared directly at Mrs. Bennet as she made her speech.

"But so many know that Lydia left–"

"Mama! Those who know, including Colonel Forster, have decided they were mistaken. It is for everyone's benefit that I am the scandalous daughter and no other. Please, do this and protect my sisters and they might marry great men." Elizabeth Darcy watched her mother's face begin a calculating look as finally the grand scheme played upon the greatest hopes of Mrs. Bennet.

"But what if Lydia is with child? She must marry Mr. Wickham." Mrs. Bennet asked as Lydia beamed once more with pride standing next to her mother.

"If Lydia is carrying Mr. Wickham's child we will take the child in and raise it with a tenant family at Pemberley. No one must no that Lydia was ever with Mr. Wickham."

"But what if it should be found out?" Mrs. Bennet was not using her shrill voice as she asked her questions, but a more reserved tone as she truly tried to understand the plans and decisions made for her family well before her arrival in London.

"If it is learned that my sister was ruined by a man who deserted his post, I shall live a quiet life at Pemberley with my husband and any of my other sisters who need shelter. But I shall never see you, father, or Lydia ever again." Elizabeth allowed that to sink in for her mother, before she escalated to the next point. "And once father dies, you will be dependent upon Mr. Collins' generosity because it will not be a farthing of my husband's money that saves such foolishness." Elizabeth Darcy quietly laid out the consequences to her mother and Mrs. Bennet accepted the terms with little more than a nod. Elizabeth worried such information would make her mother cry out in agony, but to her and Jane's surprise, Mrs. Bennet remained calm. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow to her older sister who just shrugged from her position on the sofa.

"So we have an accord? There is to be no mention of Mr. Wickham? I especially mean you, young lady." Lady Matlock glared especially hard at Lydia who was no longer smiling like a puffed up peacock next to her mother, but like a despondent young woman of sixteen years of age with no hope of marrying the man she wanted.

"Yes, your ladyship," Lydia bowed her head and looked up at her sister Elizabeth who nodded. It hadn't taken much to bring Lydia back in line before the interference of their mother. Either Lydia participated in her own salvation and was rewarded with a new wardrobe, or she did not participate and spend her life in poverty. It had been harsh, but Elizabeth still hoped there would be a glimmer of maturity in her sister if she just had the proper guidance.

Less than ten minutes later, the Matlock carriage was recalled to the front of Darcy House. Mrs. Bennet continued her motherly fussing over both Lydia and Lizzie with a renewed excitement since they were now on their way. On the corner of the street a man with in clothes that looked like he had spent more time cleaning a chimney then cleaning them, watched the ladies board the carriage with a low cap covering his face. When the carriage wheels rolled away he kept walking, disappearing into the crowds of mid-day London with no one giving him a second look other than to avoid his path.

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Yep got one more for you all too. This is all stuff written this morning.


	46. Chapter 47

Yep more Jane and Richard . . . and yes, in the PUBLISHED version Salamanca will be Badajoz. Because I had to move my timeline, the battle of Salamanca hasn't happened yet. but that's okay, easy fix.

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A door slam startled Jane Bennet as she sat reading in the parlor of Darcy house. Mr. Darcy had left long ago and she only knew Georgianna and Mrs. Annesley to be upstairs conducting music lessons. Curious, Jane wondered who had returned home and cautiously left her safe haven in her sister's house to tiptoe toward the back where Mr. Darcy's study. Tentatively, she knocked on the door and felt relieved her instinct was correct when it was not Mr. Darcy who opened, but Richard.

Seeing Jane, Richard scowled further but left the door open walked away, allowing the lady to make her own decision as to enter the room or not.

"Darcy is still with the solicitor if you needed him." Richard poured himself a drink and did not offer Jane one. His agitation provoked the lady's sympathies.

"You are angry. If you need an ear, I am willing to listen." Jane used her natural skills of peacekeeper she had called upon many a time with her sisters at Longbourn. Everything from fights over bonnets to devastation from lack of invitation were solved with a sit down with Jane.

"He slipped through our fingers! We were there, that day I found you after my interview with Mrs. Younge. I bet that woman knew even then where he was." Richard slammed the empty glass to the sideboard and poured again. "And if I do not find him, they will send me away sooner."

Jane suddenly became very worried and walked closer to the colonel. She reached out to touch him, but thought twice about it and pulled her hand back. His back was still to her and he did not see her hesitation.

Finding her voice, Jean finally asked the question that hurt far more than she expected.

"Send you away? I thought you only returned to your parents' home in order to make room here. I did not think your father and mother would send you away if you fail to find Mr. Wickham."

Richard turned around and shook his head. "Not my parents, the Army. I made a deal with the devil in order to search for your sister, but do not feel guilty, Miss Bennet. I would give a hefty ransom to get my hands on that scoundrel, regardless of the sister he ran off with." Richard watched as Jane struggled to accept that Richard would soon find a new assignment.

"When do they, I mean, where?" Jane gulped and tried again. "Where will they send you?" She managed a sensible question and Richard's expression softened.

"Badajoz."

Jane repeated the word and frowned. She did so hate that the memorization of places never came to her naturally. Why, if she took a walk without Elizabeth or their sister Kitty, Jane would get lost not a mile away from her home.

"Is that an island?" Jane asked. Richard laughed at the refreshing naïveté of his companion. He considered his second glass of Scotch, and took a sip before he explained.

"It's a fort in Spain. We took it last month and I have been offered the command."

"Of the entire fort?" Jane asked, clearly impressed. Richard nodded.

Finding the news not to her liking, Jane took a seat in a chair by Mr. Darcy's bookshelf. "How long will you have to live abroad?"

Richard shrugged and this time he held up a glass to offer a drink for Miss Bennet, but she declined.

"Months at least, potentially years. Depends on how long we stay at war and if they see fit to send me any relief." Richard didn't explain the post was so undesirable because the fort was so far removed from the front, everyone wished to be with Wellington. No one wanted to be left behind and live in a foreign country.

"All alone?" Jane said, feeling acutely that she did not like the idea of Richard leaving at all.

"It is a solder's life. We go where we are ordered, and we pack lightly."

Jane nodded and the conversation between then stilted. Richard was about to ask about that morning when Jane had another question.

"Will it be dangerous? Will you be in harm's way?" Her brows knit together into a single line of worry.

Richard had often taken questions from Georgiana, but fielding the same questions from Miss Bennet did not come so easily to him. He wanted to say something to her, offer her his regards as he had come to respect and feel affection for her. But he could not. Jane would find other men, men with more money and more freedom now that Darcy was married to her sister. If he could just walk away, she would attend the balls and dinners in London and never think of him again.

"I am going to take a command to maintain our position. It is unlikely I will see any action but merely run drill to keep the lads sharp." Richard closed his eyes as he recalled reports declaring the Spanish forces inept on the battlefield. He worried too many of his men would be comprised of locals and not well-trained English soldiers.

"Would another commander take his family if he had one? His wife?" Jane asked and then looked away, finding the artwork on Darcy's wall captivating.

Richard felt himself in danger of declaring for Miss Bennet. He did not miss her clear interest in him anymore than he could ignore his own attraction. Bravely, he sought to scare her away.

"Would you follow a husband to Spain? To some far away place where you do not speak the language nor know a soul? Endure a week or more at sea, taking nothing but a single trunk of belongings?"

Instead of running away as she had the last time Richard pushed into her personal life, Jane Bennet held her ground.

"If I loved him, I would. A wife forsakes all others, that is the vow she takes."

Richard choked on the last of his drink and Jane grinned. He had been bested by a Bennet.

Their conversation came to an end when Darcy himself entered the room.

"Richard . . . and Jane?" Before he left, Mr. Darcy and his sister by marriage had agreed in private to call one another by their Christian names. Jane is what Darcy called her in conversations with Elizabeth, and if she was to join them at Pemberley, it made little sense to stand on ceremony.

"Miss Bennet and I were just discussing Mr. Wickham."

"No we were not, we were discussing your reassignment to Spain." Jane mercilessly tossed Mr. Darcy's cousin to the wind. By the shocked expression on her brother-in-law's face, it appeared Richard had not told shared his intrigue with anyone else.

"You are being reassigned? But you said they were keeping you in London for two years."

Richard shrugged. "The army not obliged to keep any promises."

Darcy turned away from Richard to address Jane. "Is my wife still out with my aunt?"

Jane nodded. "Yes, and with my mother and sister. But I would expect they would they would not jeopardize supper." Both Darcy and Richard frowned.

"My mother may not remember that Darcy here does not like to keep town hours. Even when he is in town."

"It's ruinous for one's digestion to eat so late. And it spares me many a social engagement." Darcy defended.

Jane suddenly felt rather out of place outnumbered by the men and excused herself to see to Miss Darcy. When she rose to leave he study, she gave Richard a doleful look of regret, but she did not say more before leaving the two cousins alone.

Darcy closed his study door and leaned against the wooden portal.

"Richard," he warned.

"I did not propose to her."

"But you—"

"It's different for you, Darcy. You do not look at the woman you desire above all others and worry if you can keep a roof over her head!"

"I can lend you—"

"Enough! And I could sell my commission. It is not for me and Miss Bennet to seek a future. And if you will excuse me, I had better leave and question Mrs. Younge again. You may not need to find Wickham, but I do."

Fitzwilliam held his tongue as his cousin also thanked him for the drink. Left alone in his study, Darcy unrolled the papers he brought from his lawyer. He hoped Elizabeth would be pleased with the terms of the contract and planned to tell her all about them that evening.

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Okay, so there you go, next on the outline is a dinner between the 5 as Lydia is removed to Gardiner House to be under her parents' supervision. There was supposed to be Mrs Gardiner but that scene will move to tomorrow in the storyline I believe. Yes, yes, that works perfectly (makes a note, mwahaha) I might have more chapters to share tonight. We will see how this afternoon's writing session goes.

I am anxious to hear any and all feedback, and even just a keep going would be so appreciated right now. It's so hard to move creatively past the doubt, even when you have multiple books to your name. Stupid doubt. I hate it.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	47. Chapter 48

This is a special scene for me, both for content and something very special that happened. My daughter, the one I homeschool, is on my lap and HELPED me make edits! We only did a quick edit to fix the gross mistakes from dictation, but every apostrophe in the second part, every homonym like poor in the last line was made pour by her! Her verdict is that this is a very nice scene! She is only 7, but she looked right at it to say "Mommy, is this a scene?" She may not be a writer herself one day, but she is growing up in the vernacular and it's really special to me that I could include her in this way.

XOXOX

Elizabeth Ann West

For the Jane and Richard shippers, don't WORRY, this ends in a double wedding. I promise.

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"And then Miss Bingley had the audacity to say she received a letter from Sarah Long. It was well known in Hertfordshire that Lydia had run away with a soldier!" Elizabeth dramatically recounted the trip to the dressmaker where conveniently Lady Givens was also there with Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst. Elizabeth now understood Lady Matlock's insistence upon a clear united front before taking her new niece into an ambush. But the first battle was won. The tale of only one Bennet sister, the one named Elizabeth, running away had its start to ripple through the Ton with the added buzz of the groom being the much sought after Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley.

Jane frowned in sympathy with her sister. "Miss Bingley attempted to hide that Aunt Gardiner and I called upon her in January. I do wonder if the Long sisters actually keep a correspondence with her and speak ill of our family. Or if she added that falsehood to bolster her claim." Jane sounded more and more like the sister Elizabeth remembered from Longbourn, seeing the good in others. Thankfully, the changes in Jane still allowed her to see a Miss Bingley for the mean-spirited woman she behaved.

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and reached for another roll. Mr. Darcy watched the exchange between the sisters with great interest, noting that when his wife was angry, she ate as healthy as a horse.

"And what did Mother say? I cannot believe she allowed Miss Bingley to win the day?" The small family dinner comprised of Richard Fitzwilliam, Georgiana, Jane and the Darcys.

Elizabeth broke off small pieces of her roll and dipped one into the delectable cream sauce that had accompanied the fish.

"Oh she did not. Lady Matlock explained almost sounding like she took pity on Miss Bingley that with one daughter running off to elope with a man, meaning me" she looked at Darcy and smiled at her husband, "it was perfectly understandable that gossip from some backwater country would get the details confused."

Jane gasped as the two men laughed at a classic set down by Lady Matlock. Elizabeth enjoyed her triumph at the dinner table, but when she had been in the dressmaker's parlor with her mother, Lydia, and the other ladies, there was no such jubilation on her part. Instead, the more and more the lie was told that it was Elizabeth who scandalously planned to run off with Mr. Darcy in order to rescue Lydia from her stupidity, the more Elizabeth began to feel both ashamed of what she had done to her aunt, and frustrated the truth was much more benign where it came to her and Mr. Darcy. She wondered if it bothered her husband that all of London society would soon think of him in an unflattering manner as to steal a man's daughter and rush her over the border. But society was always harsher on the lady than the gentleman when it came to matters of breaching society's protocols. Caught in her thoughts, Elizabeth noticed Georgiana Darcy across from her, looking very sullen at the peas on her plate.

"Are you unhappy we did not take you today, Georgiana? I thought that you would enjoy being spared such a public display." Georgiana had been spared because Lady Matlock wished not to connect her niece to the wayward Bennet daughters in public.

Georgiana shrugged and shook her head, choosing to remain quiet. This behavior did not receive approval from her brother and he took it as a slight against his wife.

"Georgiana, your sister asked you a question. Do you not believe she deserves the honor of a response?" Mr. Darcy reminded Elizabeth of how much of a father figure he was to the young girl and was well within his rights to insist on proper table manners of the young woman.

Georgiana sighed and looked at her brother with the most doleful expression. "I am just sad. Why did Lydia have to be returned to her Aunt's house? Jane stays here, why could not Lydia?"

A chorus of coughs came from multiple directions at the table as no one quite wished to explain why Lydia had to be removed. With the men at the table took to be a sign of Georgiana's innocence, Elizabeth noticed something different. There was an underlying agenda to her question and so when neither of the men took up the mantle to respond, Elizabeth felt within her right as mistress of the house to do so. A quick look to her husband, they silently conferred and he gave her a small nod to signal she might address the issue.

"On the surface, it is important that Lydia be removed from me, because I am the scandalous sister and it is what is to be expected. But Lydia committed a very grievous mistake and there is still the possibility of further consequences. It is important for both her reputation and yours that the two of you be separated." Elizabeth took a drink of her wine as Georgiana's face crumpled into near tears.

"But she is no different than me," Georgianna began but Mr. Darcy interrupted her.

"She is exceedingly different in situation and manner than you, Dearest. You told me of Mr. Wickham's treachery before he could," Darcy gulped as he struggled for a word and finally settled upon one, "before he injured you. You said he did not impose upon you in anyway." Mr. Darcy finished tearing into his fish with much more strength than the flaky white meet needed. A loud screech made Elizabeth wince as his knife slipped on the china.

"Because if he had, we would have killed him," Richard said attracting a look of censure from Jane.

"I was not honest. With Lydia, I was, and she made me not despise myself quite so much anymore," Georgiana said quietly and the entire dining room came to a standstill.

The ticking clock on the mantle marked the time as both Jane and Elizabeth felt well out of their comfort to intercede on such a private family matter of the Darcys, and anger held the tongues of both men at the table. When Georgiana's tears became fully fledged and began to fall, her sniffles broke the silence and it was Mr. Darcy who sent his sister to his room to her room for the remainder of the meal. Openly sobbing, Georgiana accepted the assistance out of her chair by a footman and ran up the stairs as the other four allow their courses to be changed, but none of them felt as if they had much appetite.

"Did you know?" Darcy directed the question at his cousin up at the other end of the table but Richard shook his head.

"I was at war, or do you not recall? You said you suspected."

Darcy scowled and bellowed an order at the footman to refill his wineglass. Elizabeth flinched in her chair to hear her husband's angry tone and Jane looked quietly down at her dinner.

"If she is not intact, she is ruined. Utterly ruined!" Darcy said angrily, feeling the fresh sting of the scandal that happened over a year ago as if it were yesterday.

"Say she fell off a horse," Elizabeth offered, helping herself to more of her own wine as the next course of beef was not to her liking.

"Pardon me? Are you suggesting an explanation for when her future husband comes to me and demands a divorce?" Mr. Darcy spat out raising his ire and his wife's as well.

"If a lie is good enough for my sister, why not yours? The man has had them both and neither can marry him. If he is found, he is to be hanged. As you convinced me there was no other solution than to take on my sister's shame, I hardly see an alternative solution for her."

"Do you comprehend nothing? Your sister is not known–"

"Careful, Darcy," his cousin interrupted him further angering Darcy.

"No! A man should be able to speak his mind in his own home if nowhere else! I have endured constant strain and censure for my own family, nay, even from my staff, from the day I found you battered and bloodied at The Grey Sheep. I have done everything in my power to save your family from ruination as my own house was treated with little more respect than a boarder's!"

"I object to that!" Richard shouted.

"I wasn't speaking to you!" Mr. Darcy shouted back.

"No, sir, you were speaking to me. And if I am such a burden along with my family, then perhaps I should return to them in Cheapside. This evening." Elizabeth Darcy felt her heart break into a thousand shards as the rejection she suspected was always there would one day find its way to the surface. She waved for the footman to help her with her chair, and Darcy seem to snap out of his stupor.

"You will not be going anywhere, Mrs. Darcy."

"So I am to be a prisoner? A brutish husband that locks his wife away. I suppose I should be so lucky as to have a witness with my sister here and be thankful she's going with us to Pemberley." Elizabeth stood with her hands on her hips, blinded by the tears that filled her eyes.

Darcy stood and mangled his face with his hands trying to rub some clarity into his brain. Taking a number of deep breaths, he finally looked at his wife with new eyes and saw a trembling, frightened creature.

With a calm voice, Fitzwilliam stepped toward his wife but stopped when she shrank back. Carefully, he extended a hand. "Madam, I beg your forgiveness. I have spoken words that cannot be unheard. If everyone is finished with dinner, perhaps we ought to retire to the parlor where we may sit more comfortably and discuss how this changes our plans."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands before wiping the moisture on her skirts. She accepted her husband's hand and whispered her own apology. Thing were not well, but they did not have to slide further into despair, either.

As Mr. and Mrs. Darcy led the way to the parlor, Richard offered an arm to Jane but took his time to follow his cousin's lead.

"When you spoke earlier about taking a wife to my post, were you truthful about your willingness to leave behind all that you know?" Richard asked quietly of Jane as they slowly walked toward the dining room door.

"Yes," was all Jane managed.

Richard paused their progression and turned to face Jane Bennet, holding the lady's hands in his own. "I have not much to offer and I will take no answer this moment, but if you love me, know that I have dearly come to love you since the moment I met you at your uncle's home. If you are truly willing–" Jane opened her mouth to answer but Richard held up a finger to make her wait. "No, what I ask of you is more than anything a husband should have to ask of his wife. When I say it is arduous and dangerous, I am not speaking lightly. We may not survive to come back to England, you might never see your sisters or family again." Richard lectured and Jane slowly nodded her head to understand his grave warning.

"I only ask that you consider an old soldier who would love very much for the privilege and honor to be your husband."

"Richard?" Darcy's booming voice echoed across the entryway as to inquire if they would be joining the Darcys for a drink. Richard winked at Jane and looped his arm back in hers.

"Pour two brandies, Cousin."

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Now I have to go watercolor with her a bit, but I will work on writing more tonight. :) I can't wait!


	48. Chapter 49

I wouldn't leave you all hanging . . . :) Thank you so much for all of the reviews, I shared some with my daughter. I asked her if she wanted to help on this scene and she said "Um, maybe tomorrow." LOL. Well, at least now she knows it's work! :) RE: the dinner and servants, the construct of privacy for early 19th century is often a romanticization by writers, not what is represented in personal letters and journals of the time (thank you presentations at JASNA last year and the Georgian history books I have :) ). A footman was not a cheap servant to have, as males cost much more than females, and being in the dining room, they would be trusted servants of the family. To gossip would mean they would have no reference, and therefore no job prospects. Lower staff, household maids, scullery maids, even groundsmen, were not considered in the family's bosom and so you have many stories from even the time period where it is a wood cutter or a low maid who tells tales, not a footman or a housekeeper. Remember that footmen would be trusted to go out with young maidens or with the mistress for protection, they were not meanly treated or underpaid and would have no reason to gossip. Later on in the Victorian era, there was more distinction made between the master and his family and the other servants and that is when there would be more danger of the family's business being told, but as for the Regency historical record, even the most ribald party of the Prince Regent would have had footmen there to serve and not be thought twice about to tell tales. They could certainly do so, but it would be to their greater ruin than their employer.

Sorry for the history lesson, I am certain there are many sources on the subject in both directions. For me, I can't imagine Mr. Darcy employing any staff that did not meet the higher standards. And when we are angry, we do not always think clearly. :)

XOXOXOXXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

Now, enjoy the makeup of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy :) Tomorrow we go pay the piper at Gracechurch Street. :)

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Her hair down from the stress of the day's high pinning, Elizabeth Darcy answered a quiet knock on her bedroom door. Standing in the hallway was her husband, no cravat, no coat, just a shirt and trousers.

"May I come in?" he asked and Elizabeth nodded, opening the door wider for him. It was the first night of their marriage that Elizabeth did not go to bed with her husband in his room and instead retired to her own.

"I tried to go to sleep, but I have found that I no longer know how to accomplish this without you by my side."

"Perhaps we should sit and talk some more." Elizabeth glided over to the two chairs sat by the fireplace in her room as Mr. Darcy's mouth twisted with annoyance. It was not talking that he came to his wife's room for, but he would step carefully since his outburst at dinner.

In the parlor, the two sisters and two cousins came to a tentative agreement in regards to what was left to be done before the ball and wedding ceremony for Darcy and Elizabeth. Darcy and Richard mostly listened as Elizabeth and Jane were the ones to itemize the errands and social calls laid out by Lady Matlock. But Elizabeth would send a note to cancel the next day's morning as she and her husband would ride to Cheapside and make an interview that Elizabeth both feared and needed most desperately. In the morning, Elizabeth Bennet would answer to both her aunt and her father as Elizabeth Darcy for her behavior and decisions.

"I do not like that we are sleeping apart, Madam. I can understand you do not wish for my company, but I take this the same as a scolding of a young boy, the punishment his nanny might dole out of denying him a toy or a treat."

Elizabeth squinted her eyes at her husband's simile comparing her deep-seated hurt to mere child's play. "I have tried on every occasion to convey to you how much gratitude I hold for your assistance from Canonbie to what you have done for my family."

Darcy scratched his head in aggravation, and then smoothed his curls with a flat hand as he inspected the faded green Persian that had been a staple in this room since it was his mother's.

"I have apologized for what I said, it was entirely unfair. But as they have yet to invent a mechanism to turn back time, I am unable to undo what was said in anger and not in love."

Elizabeth lifted her feet from the floor and tucked them underneath her nightgown, hoping a more comfortable position would give her greater confidence for what she was about to say. The day had been long, and there was a great chance the repercussions of their words this night would reverberate for years in their marriage. But still, she had to be heard.

"Can you imagine not knowing that you are married to me?" Elizabeth asked a simple question and Darcy scoffed.

"But you do remember, you no longer lose your memories, unless there are more falsehoods to be confessed this night?" But Elizabeth shook her head very quickly.

"I did not ask you to imagine if you could not remember being married to me. I asked if you could imagine not knowing you are married to me? My memory of being your wife is purely from you telling me it is so. It is a memory of the conversation, not one of standing next to you at an altar." Elizabeth gulped as there were many truths to be shared before they could find a way forward.

"I see." Darcy placed his hands on the ends of the chair's arm and dropped his chin practically to his drip to his chest.

"Do you?"

Raising his face to his wife's eye level, Darcy's expression appeared blank to Elizabeth. She spied no emotion in the folds and creases of his skin. "You are saying that you only believe yourself married to me based on my word, and now you question it."

Elizabeth looked at her husband in horror, another foolish misunderstanding stood between them but she was smarter now then she had been in the springtime. She would not allow them to end this night unclear as to where each other stood on the subject of their nuptials.

"I am not questioning your word, and even if I did so, I cannot believe that Fiona and Peter would lie."

"So you did confirm that we married in Scotland with my staff."

"No! Would you cease in thinking the worst of me?" Elizabeth said and Darcy quickly countered.

"Only if you will cease in thinking the worst of me!"

The married couple sat at odds in front of the empty fireplace with nothing but hollow candlelight to make the dark exchange feel even worse. Elizabeth held her tongue as she waited out her husband, and finally, Mr. Darcy obliged.

"I shall listen to what you are trying to tell me and not shout again."

Elizabeth stood up from her chair and walked barefoot across the rug, a vision in the white nightgown that hung so intimately to her female form. Darcy leaned back in the chair and opened his arms as his wife looped hers around his neck and took a seat across the man's lap.

"I am in a strange position. Tomorrow we see my father and my aunt and I must answer for all that we have done. I did take a very great risk in leaving my aunt, and an even greater one in taking your word that I am your wife."

"But you are my wife," Elizabeth silenced her husband with a lengthy kiss, one that left them both gasping for air at the end.

"You promised you would listen," she admonished.

"Well if that's to be my punishment," Darcy began before quickly shouting, "OW!" Elizabeth grinned as she removed her hands from pinching and twisting the delicate flesh of his rib cage.

"The kiss was merely to make you stop talking, the punishment came later." Elizabeth stared at him in a way that only his beguiling Bennet girl could. As Darcy opened his mouth to respond Elizabeth reminded him.

"Tut, tut!" She held up her pinching fingers and her husband merely nodded. "As I was saying, husband, I took a great risk in believing you about what you said. Both of our sisters were made similar promises from someone that neither held the maturity or wisdom to disbelief. Even I, at one time, believed Mr. Wickham." Elizabeth closed her eyes at that horrid memory and tightened her grasp around her husband's neck. Darcy gave a light grunt in response, but he did not interrupt.

"I am nervous about both the ball and the wedding ceremony. Even though I am a wife, I have the same jitters of a new bride because I've never been a bride before as far as my memory goes. And it scares me, Fitzwilliam. I don't want my family to ruin your good name and I don't want to do anything to disappoint you." She leaned her head upon his shoulder. He lowered his arms to squeeze her form against his chest as tight as he could muster without hurting her.

"And through all this, you had to sit and hear my relative insinuate you are nothing more then a loose woman with no morals who trapped her nephew?" Elizabeth nodded, her for head feeling the vibration of Darcy's Adam's apple as he spoke.

"She did not say it so carelessly as that, but that is the general sentiment, yes."

"I am so terribly sorry for my mistakes. I wanted to believe you were well before you were so, and it is easy to say I was merely a hopeful man in love, but I was a selfish man in love."

"Fitzwilliam, you forget that I feel the same depths of affection and desire that you feel for me, even if I was not aware for quite so long as you. If you had to endure this torment, this pain of wanting a person so strongly, with months of my rejection, I can scarcely blame you for any amount of self-preservation your decisions in Scotland may have held. Besides, I am your wife." Elizabeth popped her head up to nuzzle her nose against her husband's and the apologetic couple shared another kiss. When the kiss deepened into another, and then another, both husband-and-wife sought the wax seal of such an apology that only physical touch could give.

"You are my wife." Darcy growled as he lifted his wife into the air and carried her across the room.

And so the evening did not become the first night that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slept separatele from one another, but merely the first night that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slept in Mrs. Darcy's bed.

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I always thought to write romance with no sex would be so hard to do, but I really find that I like writing the moments up to that moment the best. Always makes my heart race and I give a little sigh. ;) Can't wait to hear what you will think!


	49. Chapter 50

Well, what had happened was . . . :) I know it's been some time for some to read the beginning, but I think everyone is going to finally feel better about what happened in Scotland. E left Mrs. G and took the only footman and said wait here, I'll be back. Mrs. G waited that day to see if her silly niece would come back, but nope, so she packed up the children and left that morning. E comes to Gretna Green that afternoon with Mr. Darcy, but Mrs. G already left. They drink they marry they leave. Mrs. G rethinks her behavior and comes back to the inn but E has already been there and left, with no direction as to where Mr. Darcy's estate is. :) The reason I don't go spell this all out until now is on purpose, I think emotions as we read are important. I want readers to be mad and feel something for both Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner's behavior, after all, that's the what the characters are going through too, they don't all know what happened when, what was each other's intentions? And I do hear you all about the likelihood that Georgiana Darcy is not safe from how many people KNOW about her tangle with Wickham. That is very true. And IF I was writing a sequel, you would better believe I would throw in some major shade from all of these events coming back to bite characters in the butt. But right now, I am not writing a sequel, so it will have to be like in the original, we will never know if it became widespread that Georgiana was with Wickham, and interestingly enough, Austen does not spell out Georgiana's fate at the end of P&P like she does the other sisters . . . . hmmm down plot bunny, down plot bunny :)

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

As always every single review makes me write faster, I can't help it. I feel like there are very real people, and there are, you all are real, LOL, who are counting on me for this story. And that feels amazing. :)

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Elizabeth Darcy sat with her mother and all three of her sisters currently residing at the Gardiners with a nervousness she thought she had shed in the carriage. Instead, the fears of travel and fears of facing her aunt weighed enormously on her heart.

And she was alone. Her husband spoke privately in the study with her father and uncle. Her aunt, nowhere to be seen.

"Mary, how has your playing been?"

"I've learned three new hymns."

Elizabeth swallowed. "Three? My, that it is, that is an accomplishment."

"Why could we not buy new gowns? Lydia and you and Jane all get new gowns and we do not! It is not fair!" Kitty's outburst was quickly scolded by her mother while Lydia looked listless from her place on the sofa. Elizabeth tried to get a measure on her youngest sister's mood, but the girl would not meet Elizabeth's eye. She avoided all notice and appeared very not Lydia-like.

"I will talk to Papa, Kitty. I am certain you will have a new gown for the ball," Elizabeth offered, looking cautiously through the hall to the closed study door.

"No, thank you," Mary responded.

Elizabeth's head whipped around to her younger sister's reply. "Mary?"

"No, thank you. I will not be attending your ball or your wedding."

"Mary, now is not the time for your piety. We shall all support your sister next week," Mrs. Bennet chimed.

"Not I. And not father." Mary announced, smugly.

Elizabeth faltered and looked to her mother for explanation, but Mrs. Bennet looked indifferent. Elizabeth hopped up from her seat and barged into her uncle's study.

All three men looked up at the sudden entrance of Elizabeth, and she settled on her father's face.

"Papa?"

Elizabeth walked forward to the man who suddenly appeared so very old in front of her and rushed into his arms. Presented with the actual embodiment of his daughter, all of the built up excuses his mind created crumbled in his mind and heart.

"My Lizzie! My Lizzie!"

Elizabeth pulled back, "You will not walk me down the aisle? Nor come to my ball?"

Mr. Bennet scowled, but his face softened.

"That is just what we were discussing, dear." Mr. Darcy spoke up reminding Elizabeth of her new loyalties. Reluctantly, she left the arms of her father and took her side by her husband, spying her marriage contract laying before them on her uncle's desk. Proud of the settlement, she looked to her uncle and shared a warm smile with the man who always believed in her.

"It is complicated, Lizzie. You have run around town scandalizing yourself, and you rejected this man last spring. How am I to believe you are suddenly in love and happy?"

"Because I am. Look at me, Papa, I am happy. Mr. Darcy is not who I thought he was, I was wrong. We were all wrong." Elizabeth felt her husband stiffen next to her.

"And you will exclude your aunt and uncle? When did you become so snobbish?"

Elizabeth blinked, confused.

"No, I—"

"Overzealousness on the part of my aunt, an overzealousness that will not go uncorrected."

"Is that? Is that why aunt will not come down?" Lizzie asked, expecting an answer from her uncle. Edward Gardiner found the view outside of his lone window in his study compelling and avoided his niece's gaze. Elizabeth dropped her husband's arm and excused herself from the study.

When she reached the hall, the squabbling in the hall between Kitty and Mary increased in volume as her mother scarcely checked them. Elizabeth blinked back tears as she rushed up the stairs and knocked continuously on her aunt's door.

"Come in," a weakened voice on the other side beckoned.

Elizabeth burst in to find her aunt taken to her bed.

"Oh Aunt, I am so sorry! I am so sorry! This was not done with my consent, that woman has gone too far! You and Uncle shall sit in the front pew, I swear!"

"Lizzie!" Madeline Gardiner threw out her arms to accept her hysterical niece who openly sobbed. "Hush dear, that is not why I am in bed."

"No?" Elizabeth leaned back and wiped her tears. "But you would not come down . . ."

Madeline Gardiner covered her mouth as she held in a belch and moved to lean over her bed, then stopped, and decided she did not need relief.

"Oh, you are unwell!" Elizabeth exclaimed, but again her aunt shook her head.

"It will lessen in a few weeks. I suspected when we were at Longbourn that another child might join us in the New Year, but I was not certain. That is why I did not stay in Scotland."

Immense guilt washed over Elizabeth as she stood and closed her eyes remembering the letter she wrote to her aunt asking her to stay while she traveled to Coldstream and back with the only footman.

"I was wrong, I became so panicked, you see, that Jane and I . . ." Elizabeth trailed off as her aunt did indeed need the chamber pot after all.

When she resumed control of her faculties, Madeline Gardiner reached for her niece's hand.

"I should have stayed more than one night, you were hurt, and Mr. Darcy brought you the next day. But I was so angry . . . we did not ride but half a day when I turned around to come back to Gretna Green, but by then you and Mr. Darcy . . ."

"Had already been there and left." Elizabeth finished.

Mrs. Gardiner nodded and her niece half-frowned in the twisted games that Fate played.

"Did you . . . I do not believe this nonsense that you secretly promised to meet Mr. Darcy in Scotland. I was there when Colonel Forster came with the news. Did you only marry him because I left?" Mrs. Gardiner's voice trembled as she asked if her niece had made a marriage out of desperation and if it was her fault.

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "I truly could not tell you the answer. I don't remember marrying him at all. When the carriage toppled, a boy died. I hit my head but didn't know it. When I woke up the next morning at Broadmeadow, that's Mr. Darcy's estate, I didn't know where I was. I was frightened and hid my injury."

"And Mr. Darcy forced you!" Mrs. Gardiner suddenly moved as if she would get out of the bed, but Elizabeth held her hands out.

"No, no, he did not know. He thought I was well. I was still me, and the maid told me where I was. And so we had a drink, perhaps a few, and then we married. The next morning, I woke up next to him and had no idea what had happened."

"Oh my Lizzie, that is awful! And you had no one with you for comfort!"

"I had Mr. Darcy. He does care for me, and I did care for him, too, after I told him he was the last man on earth I would ever marry. He wrote me a letter in Kent, telling me the truth of his past with Mr. Wickham and why he intervened with Mr. Bingley and Jane."

"Yes, Jane! How is she? Has Mr. Bingley come to call at least?"

Elizabeth cocked her head to one side, surprised that her aunt did not question more about her feelings for Mr. Darcy, but let it pass.

"No, I do not believe that Mr. Bingley has come to call on Jane a great deal. But . . . "

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "There is a hestiation?"

Elizabeth smiled and blushed. "I think there might be affection between her and Mr. Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. However, there are obstacles."

"His family." Mrs. Gardiner said with a sour tone.

Elizabeth shrugged. "To be honest, there is so much on all of our minds, I hesitate to say one way or the other. But I believe Jane will seek out what she wants. She would have come today, but she wanted me and Mr. Darcy to come as a family." Elizabeth kept the details of the argument the previous night with Georgiana and how Jane comforted the girl as not even Mr. Darcy was ready to talk to his sister.

"And she could seek out more time with her colonel without her mother." Mrs. Gardiner said, knowingly.

Eventually her niece relented and nodded. "Though I suspect the Colonel will not call on Darcy House today until this afternoon. They are still searching for Mr. Wickham." Elizabeth said, frowning.

Her aunt patted her hand and Elizabeth rose from the edge of her aunt's bed.

"Go back downstairs, and rescue your husband. I fear your father was not in a mood for meeting his son-in-law."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam can hold his own, and it might serve him right. I've endured his aunt every single day," Elizabeth said, laughing. Her aunt joined her and when they finished, Elizabeth leaned over to embrace her aunt once more.

"I am so happy you are well-settled," her aunt whispered.

"When you feel better, you must come see me. Please. Perhaps you and uncle will come to Pemberley with the baby and the children."

Her aunt agreed to the invitation and Elizabeth Darcy left her aunt's room feeling much better about all of her troubles. Her mother's yelling though and proximity to uncle's study made her hurry down the stairs as quickly as she went up them. Thankfully, it was not her husband that her mother was yelling at, it was her father.

"And Kitty and Mary need gowns!" Mrs. Bennet had just finished her tirade and Elizabeth spied the settlement papers rolled up in Fitzwilliam's hands.

"Perhaps we should get those to your solicitor?" Elizabeth announced, attracting her mother's notice to the document.

"Yes, yes! It was so good of you to call, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy. And we shall see you very soon, I hope."

Elizabeth directed their quick exit and almost forgot to be frightened as she boarded their carriage, but Fitzwilliam did not forget and protectively placed his hand on the small of her back.

"Did you mend things with your aunt?" he asked to distract her as momentum led her to step up into the vehicle and find her seat on the bench.

"Yes, very much so. But I fear I shall soon be disappointing another aunt."

"After hearing the rubbish she has been telling your mother, I believe I shall join you in that action, Madam."

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Now to get writing for the day! Oh yeah, some major stuff is about to hit the fan all over the place!


	50. Chapter 51

Here we go, Wicked Wickham makes his appearance.  
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The heat of late July smothered even the serene Jane Bennet despite the high ceilings of the parlor at Darcy House. She indulged herself to lay on the sofa moving a fan to cool both her skin and temper. She had knocked on Georgiana Darcy's door and been told to the young woman wished to be alone. Both Jane and Elizabeth had spoken to Georgiana the previous evening after her explosive confession at dinner, but a new dawn brought a new attitude in the young woman. And despite a plethora of patience, even Jane felt exasperated by the number of young girls in love with George Wickham.

Feeling frustrated to think of either Georgiana and Lydia gave Jane pause to think about her own feelings towards Mr. Bingley. She held none. Once back in Hertfordshire Jane felt certain the man was destined to become her husband, and she enjoyed his company more than any other man of her acquaintance. But Mr. Bingley was not a man of action like say Colonel Fitzwilliam. At least, the only actions Mr. Bingley ever took were weak-willed and spineless.

Jane felt herself smile as she remembered the previous evening not only for the ugliness at dinner. There also stood Richard's offer to marry that he asked her to consider. In the heat of summer with too many misbehaving sisters, the prospect of running away to Spain with a man who looked like Richard Fitzwilliam sounded like the most reasonable plan of all! Jane looked around the room for the small writing desk to pen her colonel a note when the butler announced a visitor.

"Lady Matlock, Miss." Poor Mr. Cross looked as if he might boil alive in the number of layers he wore. Jane nodded and the grand lady entered the parlor in the manner only Lady Matlock could.

"I beg your pardon, your ladyship, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy have not returned yet. And Miss Darcy is indisposed."

"It's too hot for platitudes. I knew Mr. and Mrs. Darcy would not be here. I came to speak to you, child."

Jane half closed her eyes at the unappealing aspect of discussing any subject with Richard's mother who had once taken a liking to Jane, but as of late seemed at best in different to slightly opposed.

"A report of an alarming nature has reached me and I have come here to have you deny it."

Jane held her tongue. She would not make this any easier for Lady Matlock as she now had an idea as to the subject matter of the interview.

"Do not play coquettish with me. I have watched you take an unladylike familiarity with my son. Searching the city for your sister together and he never looks to anyone else in the room when you are present. And so I ask you, are you engaged to my son Richard?"

"I commend your ladyship's forwardness, and appreciate your direct question. However I cannot confess to feel familiarity with your ladyship so that I might be comfortable to discuss my personal feelings." Jane pushed her shoulders back and felt a fierceness roar to life in her chest. If this woman truly took issue with her son's marital choices, she should argue with him, not with her.

"But this is simply not to be borne, one penniless sister married into our family is a charity. Two penniless sisters marrying into our family mixes a laughingstock. No, no, Richard will marry where he is meant to, in the sphere of the London elite, what you, my dear, do not belong." Lady Matlock finally took a seat and Jane began to feel a justifiable rage threaten to overtake her tongue and lash out at Lady Matlock.

"Will a lady of the highest of London society go with him to his post in Spain?" Jane turned on the offensive by merely asking questions, a skill she picked up from her father.

Lady Matlock sputtered. "Spain? Spain? What does a foreign country have to do with this discussion?"

Jane shrugged her shoulders and inspected the fan in her hand. "In a fortnight Colonel Fitzwilliam will be take command of an entire fort in Badajos. I would be very surprised if he intends to take a wife before then."

Outside Darcy House the intense heat slowed the street traffic to a mere crawl, but it did not stop an earnest deliveryman. The tall, slender man with a low cap knocked on the lower door with a large parcel in his hands that half obscured his face. A scullery maid opened the door and he practically barged his way into the house to her arguments.

"Leave it!" he argued as the maid tried to take the package, "I have a delivery here from Matlock House. Lazy footman forgot to put it on the carriage and they sent me by foot," the mysterious man said.

"A delivery from Matlock House? Why Lady Matlock is above stairs this moment," the Cook exclaimed, taking over from the poor scullery maid who was nothing but a wisp of a girl.

"I'll take it from here," the Cook said but the man held the parcel tighter.

"I don't think likely, 'tis a gown for Miss Darcy. My instructions are to deliver it to Mrs. Martin or Mr. Cross and no other.

The Cook scowled at such a slight and barked orders at the scullery maid to go find either the housekeeper or the butler. When the Cook's back turned to pay attention to the sauces for the afternoon meal, the man with the parcel disappeared, leaving the large empty box where he had sat. It was a number of minutes before the Cook turned back around to notice an intruder had gained entry into the home and she could raise the alarm.

Upstairs, Jane and Lady Matlock continued to spar over the future plans of Richard Fitzwilliam. Lady Matlock had just demanded to know once and for all if Jane was engaged to her son. Just as Jane was about to answer, a crazed man fueled on desperation stood in the doorway of the parlor with a knife in his hands. Jane gasped and stood up from the sofa backing away toward the fireplace. George Wickham leapt into the room brandishing the knife at both women.

"Give me Lydia and no one gets hurt. Where is she? Lydia!" George looked away for just a second to call up in the general direction of the stairs. Jane looked around her for a weapon and threw down the fan that was in her hand. Next to her were the fireplace tools and she grasped the poker to point it right at Mr. Wickham.

"Get behind me!" she called to Lady Matlock. Addressing Wickham, Jane taunted him. "Lydia is not here Wickham. Whatever you plan to do with my sister you have been thwarted," Jane said as bravely as she could muster wondering why Lady Matlock was not moving behind her but to the far corner of the room. Both Jane and Mr. Wickham watched the odd behavior of the older lady until she reached the bell pulll and tugged on it four times.

"Then it looks like I'll take you." Wickham licked his lips and stared Jane up and down. "Lady Bowman's will accept a replacement if I can't find the girl or the coin."

The mention of Lady Bowman's brought back so many costly memories for Jane as three footman suddenly appeared behind George Wickham, knocking his knife to the ground and pummeling him into submission. Jane lowered her fire poker and watched in awe as Lady Matlock walked forward with a smug smile on her face.

"Tie him up in the cellar until my nephew returns. If he says a word, beat him. And if he remains silent, beat him some more. Just don't kill him, I'm certain the Army prefers to do that."

There was an added scuffle as Wickham panicked at his sentence, but he was no match for the other three men. They dragged the man howling and screaming through the hallway and down the back stairs.

The commotion startled Miss Darcy who ran down the stairs just in time to see a glimpse of Wickham being dragged off and she dashed into the parlor.

"He is here? Mr. Wickham?" Georgiana asked with not fear in her voice but a sickening sound of hope.

Jane's spirits utterly deflated as the adrenaline slowed in her veins and she suddenly felt very tired.

"Help your sister, Jane, to her bed, Georgiana, and stay with her. Lock the door behind you and do not open it unless either I, Mrs. Darcy, your brother, or your guardian knock. Do you understand?"

"But George, is he –"

Lady Matlock glided to her niece and glared until the young woman stopped mid-sentence. "There is a dangerous criminal held hostage in this household and your door will remain locked until your brother and your cousin arrive home. Take Miss Bennet above stairs and do as you are instructed."

Georgiana reluctantly moved over to lend Jane a hand. The shock of the encounter and the memories of Lady Bowman's house began to compound upon one another and make her feel very frightened an exposed. As the two woman walked past Lady Matlock, Jane looked to the older woman and to her surprise, the lady bowed her head in respect.

As they climbed the stairs awkwardly as a twosome, Jane wasn't sure if the nod was Lady Matlock's way of saying she approved of her for her son, or she was merely thanking her for the useless defense of a fire poker. Either way, Jane cared not.

With a sobbing wail she could not control, she took to her bed. Her tears fell wishing for the company of no one but Richard.

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So another scene to edit and hope to put it up tonight. Hubby got called away to answer to an emergency with his work, so he's now out of town. :( But I think the dangerous part will be driving to western Pennsylvania with the snow, so when he makes it late tonight, he will be safe. :) At least he has a truck. Meantime, that means I have the kids, and I see a new movie in their future so Mommy can write and edit tonight! I bought my celebratory cake for finishing this manuscript, 6 scenes to go and then I can have a slice! Here we go!

XOXOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


	51. Chapter 52

Nearly two hours later two corporals and a major stood around the limp, unconscious body of George Wickham down in the cellar of Darcy house.

"I would like this piece of filth taken out the back door, gentlemen." Darcy nudged Wickham's body with his boot, but the bruised and bloodied man did not respond.

"He's awfully beaten up, are you sure this is Lieutenant Wickham?" Corporal Jones tried to get a good look at the face now swelling beyond recognition.

"This man broke into my house and attacked the ladies residing here. My staff had no choice but to subdue him as you see here. That's George Wickham, you have my word." Fitzwilliam Darcy's quiet power impressed both the major and Corporal Miller, but Corporal Jones did not know when to quit.

"Heard he ran off with a young lady, too." Jones began to check the restraints on Wickham's feet. "Young Miss staying with his commander, too!"

The two young corporals shared a laugh as Major Weatherstone and Colonel Fitzwilliam glared at the men.

"General Hill has made it very clear there is to be no gossip about Lieutenant Wickham's desertion. All the lads want tales of romance and adventure, but it doesn't make it true. The man deserted his post and he is therefore a coward. We do not suffer cowards to live." The major scolded his two junior men to a nod of approval from Colonel Fitzwilliam. The major held out a document for Darcy to sign and as he did so, the major asked another question.

"You say he attacked a lady in the house? Might we get a statement from the young miss for the court-martial?" The major was just doing his job, but neither Richard nor Darcy took a liking to the intrusion.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. He did not lay any hands on the women here, but he did brandish a knife and the shock was such that all involved have taken to their rooms," Mr. Darcy said with finality.

"Of course, of course, it must've been a very trying ordeal. You have a right top staff here, Mr. Darcy. The Army cannot thank you enough for catching this criminal." Major Weatherstone smoothed the feathers he had ruffled as the dumb corporal again opened his mouth.

"Why do you think he came here for? Of all the places to go, he had his freedom, been missing for weeks. Wonder why he stuck around London?" Corporal Jones bent down ready to lift the unconscious man with his counterpart when to his surprise, Richard Fitzwilliam snatched the corporal by the collar and yanked him up against the wall of the cellar. Menacingly, Richard yelled directly in the face of the corporal.

"Would you care to be court-martialed for utter stupidity? You do not collect the lowest scum of the earth from a great man's house and open your gob to accuse him of complicity. Do you understand me?" Richard's anger made the poor corporal tremble against the wall and he stammered out a "Yes, sir." Richard released him and took a step away, breathing deeply as he privately cursed himself for letting his anger get the best of him. He needed his mind on the matter at hand, and all he could think about was going above stairs to check on Jane.

"As you say, he was on the run for weeks, likely ran out of funds. As a boy he was once welcome in this house and so he probably thought it be an easy place to rob. I caution you, when he comes to, he will have fanciful tales he will try to sell. But you must not believe any of it. George Wickham is a liar and a deserter. And until he meets his end, he will continue to speak and act out of desperation." Mr. Darcy half testified a statement best suited for the formal inquiry into the matter.

Richard blinked at Darcy's words, realizing this was now a very dangerous situation. With Wickham found he might sing like a canary from the brig. The only hope the Darcy family had would be swift justice before too many listened to Wickham's tales of running off with Miss Lydia, and perhaps even his adventures with Miss Georgiana Darcy.

"Well, this seems to all be in order. Thank you again, Mr. Darcy, and we shall take this man out of your hands. Colonel, will you be coming with us?" Major Weatherstone offered his superior the opportunity to ride with glory back to headquarters with the villain in hand. But Richard shook his head.

"Tell General Hill I will come see him first thing in the morning. I am officially on leave and my involvement in this matter must remain undocumented, do you understand Major Weatherstone?"

Major Weatherstone, the third son of a baronet in Northumberland, nodded. "I understand completely, sir, my report will explain Mr. Darcy handed over the deserter with the aid of his capable staff."

All of the men nodded in agreement and Corporal Jones moved to open his mouth again but instead received a sharp jab in the ribs by Major Weatherstone.

"Corporal Jones, when we return back to camp, you will have muck duty for the next two weeks." Major Weatherstone swiftly doled out punishment no soldier wished for and the quiet Corporal Miller didn't even dare laugh at his colleague.

With Wickham removed from the household, Darcy didn't bother to say a word to Richard as he climbed the stairs to comfort his wife and sister, and merely raise an eyebrow when Richard followed him. On the landing, the two men separated, though Richard found Jane with both Elizabeth and Georgiana when he knocked on the door.

"And we both thought we loved him." Georgianna finished her tail of silliness that plagued both her and Lydia where it came to Mr. Wickham.

"Did it never occurr to you he could not possibly love you both?" Elizabeth retorted before spying Richard in the doorway. Seeing her sister Jane brighten at the arrival of her husband's cousin, Elizabeth helped shoo Georgiana out of the room.

"Come, we can discuss this more in my room. No more silence and brooding, long since been time you discuss your situation like a grown woman." Elizabeth grasped Georgiana's hand and practically lead the young girl out of Jane's room and down the hall. Richard could hear Georgiana's complaints that her brother would be a party to the conversation, but Mrs. Darcy would brook no disagreement. When the door to Mrs. Darcy's room closed, Richard finally took a few steps into Jane's room.

"If he had touched you, it would've been a dead man they carried out of here today." Richard reached the side of Jane's bed and picked up her delicate hand to press a kiss to the top of it. "This is all my fault, I see you here lying in bed –"

"I am well. I was distressed, that is not a falsehood, but I am no longer. You are here and I am safe." Jane said with finality and smooths the blankets over her midsection as she sat up in bed.

"Yes, but I pulled the puppet strings. I put coin in one of Lady Bowman's men's hands to find Wickham in order to flush him out. I did not think he would become so desperate as to come here."

"You could not have known. The man might have also found that evil man somewhere else and that's where the Army would have collected him."

"No, this is my fault."

"Richard," Jane tested his Christian name, bringing the doleful eyes of a guilt-ridden man to look at hers, "I know you asked not for an answer–"

"Please, I know what it must be. A life with me is too dangerous–"

Jane interrupted him. "The answer is yes! It was yes last night and it is yes today. And if you ask me again tomorrow, Richard Fitzwilliam, the answer will be yes then as well!"

Richard held his breath as he could scarcely accept her words. When Jane smiled at him, the kind of smile that made a man feel as if he could fly with the birds if he only willed it so, the experienced soldier found himself matching her expression with his own. Carefully, he sat upon the edge of the bed and pulled Jane into an embrace. She squeaked at his strength.

"You have no idea how… When I heard Wickham attacked the house… I feared…" Richard Fitzwilliam choked up with emotion as he had genuinely feared for Jane's life when the report first came to him and Darcy they needed to rush home.

After a moment, Richard pulled back and Jane frowned.

"Oh dear, I've already said something wrong." Richard panicked.

"No, but I'm afraid your mother will never approve of our match. She came here today to tell me so." Jane watched Richard's face turn purple in anger. Gently, she raised her hand to touch his cheek. "Do not be angry with her, I disabused her of the idea that you would marry a debutante marshmallow and take her to Spain. Why, the very idea of a society daughter moving to a military fort?" Jane began to laugh and Richard, wishing to stay angry with his mother, could find no relief against the mirth creeping into his heart. Finally, the heavily decorated military man laughed almost to tears with Jane at the vision of taking a prim and proper pampered lady across the sea to Badajoz.

"Oh, she will be on a tear now, not only will I disappoint her in marriage, but she didn't know I had orders to go back to the Continent." Jane gasped in shock but Richard patted her hand. "Do not feel guilty, she came here to tell you she did not approve, she deserved whatever pain your revelation gave."

"Still, I thought that after Fitzwilliam found out, that you would've told the rest of your family?" Jane asked and Richard shook his head.

"There is a lot you need to learn about keeping your cards close to your chest, Madam." Richard's eyes flicked to the porcelain décolletage of his attended, and then back up to her face. "Especially if you are to join this family."

Jane stared at Richard with the eyes of a woman desiring a man as her husband, and Richard returned her silent plea with his own. Slowly, Richard leaned forward towards his Jane.

"May I?" The question perfectly understood between the two of them.

Jane nodded, and Richard moved the rest of the way to gently kiss Jane on the lips. The two bound by a common search discovered a burning lust that made neither one of them wish to end the kiss. Richard relished the small hands the Jane Bennet around his neck, pulling him further into her direction as he struggled to not crush her with his weight. When at last, the kiss ended, the two sighed and Richard turned his head toward the open door.

"Well if you were not already, I daresay you are utterly ruined, Miss Bennet. I shall just have to make you my wife," Richard teased.

Jane gulped. "And you are hopelessly sad when left to your own devices. So I suppose I shall have to make a husband out of you," Jane smiled at her future husband as she knew him thoroughly capable of taking a tease as easily as he dished them out.

"Did you truly brandish a fire poker?" Richard raised an eyebrow and Jane giggled. Carefully, Richard asked Jane for more details of the ordeal and she recounted both the conversation with his mother, and the attack of Mr. Wickham. After an interview of only a half hour, Richard reluctantly declared that he should go to his parents' house and at least apprise his father of their plans.

"I wish you did not have to leave, I know that is where you stay, but I miss our mornings together," Jane said as a reminder to how they lived briefly when they searched for Lydia and then after they recovered her.

"I'll speak with Darcy if you wish to speak to Elizabeth?" Richard asked and Jane nodded. He kissed his Jane one last time, almost a a punishment for the two of them as it was a delight. "I must at least inform my father. He will likely keep it from my mother, if I ask," and Jane nodded enthusiastically. "And by next week, with any luck, we shall enjoy every morning together. That's a promise Jane."

Jane watch Richard leave and once she was certain he had taken the stairs, she threw off the covers and walked down the hall to her sister's bedroom. Jane was well, despite what everyone wanted her to feel after staring down a crazed Mr. Wickham. Now that she was engaged to Richard Fitzwilliam, she was very well, indeed.

*************  
Okay, I HEAR the reviews about the scene with Wickham. I hope this one does more to help connect the dots, which is how I always planned it to be. There were signs that stuff was happening in the Wickham plot line both with how Mrs. Younge tipped him off things changed, and Darcy and Richard went to the inn he stayed at. I can add in the scene where Darcy and Elizabeth are talking about that failed mission that Richard said he had a plan but didn't tell Darcy more about it. That I think will help, but basically what happened was Richard employed the brothel to go after Wickham which they were more than happy to do since a young girl like Lydia would have made far more coin that what was pain to them over her lifetime as a worker there.

Anyway, I SUPER APPRECIATE the frank "hey, this was weird to me." And I hope you enjoyed Richard and Jane as much as I have writing them. Right, next up Darcy and Elizabeth figure it all out, Darcy talks to Georgiana, Darcy and Richard tell Mr. Bennet what's what, Wickham is hanged, The Ball, and the wedding. 6 to go!


	52. Chapter 53

A day after the excitement of capturing Wickham, Mr. Darcy escorted his wife around the Serpentine both to satisfy his aunt's declaration that they be seen in public, but for greater reasons of sanity. Elizabeth did not care Mr. Darcy's meddling aunt assigned the excursion, her country miss walking feet relished the escape from the dungeon of drawing room and parlors.. Of course, their trip would likely disappoint to Lady Matlock in execution as neither Fitzwilliam nor Elizabeth cared to walk during the fashionable hours and instead took to their carriage not long after breakfast.

Her arm in her husband's, Elizabeth attempted to like the sights of the planned park and small gardens boxed in on all sides by unnatural buildings. But her heart ached for the simple country rambles afforded most of her life by her father's estate. Melancholy for Longbourn reminded of her new home, Pemberley, and then the latest development that her favorite sister would not join them.

"Jane came to me last evening after you left with Richard. I am armed with the most surprising news," Elizabeth taunted her husband.

"I believe my cousin brought me the same intelligence. I told him I would have to speak to you," Darcy said, demonstrating the lesson that when one possess a wife, it is always best to defer to her when making plans of a social nature.

"And I told Jane I had to speak to you!" Elizabeth beamed and the Darcys shared a laugh that compounded with a show of ducks vigorously diving for their meal. The elegant choreography of a small brood of ducklings and a trio of older animals displayed such aquatic prowess of skilled swimming and diving, the Darcys paused a moment to enjoy the splendor.

"So you would not mind if they were not merely standing up with us?" Elizabeth asked, knowing her own mind as to the plan for a slight charade, but unsure if her husband would agree to the deception.

Darcy considered his words carefully before sharing them, reviewing them extensively for any indication they might cause offense. Deciding they would not, he finally spoke.

"I feel we are the lucky victors of a life filled with happiness and good fortune. To announce publicly that Jane is to marry my cousin would invite additional strife and possibility for mishaps."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "I have had my fill of mishaps I believe for more than a decade."

Darcy looked down at his wife in surprise, happy to hear the woman shared his sensible perspective.

"That is precisely my drift. I do not place blame for our trials and tribulations, for only our Lord knows his plans. But I also think we might be spared his censure in keeping the number who know of our double wedding to a minimum."

Darcy followed his wife's lead as she nodded again in his assessment but tugged gently on his arm to signal she wished to continue walking. Darcy turned his head to see how far they had come from the carriage and could scarcely make out the equipage if he squinted his eyes. He looked down at Elizabeth with a quizzical look but she only smiled and tilted her head in the direction forward. His wife was indeed a very great walker, and with no promise of a future excursion in the schedule, Elizabeth Darcy remained keen to take every step possible.

Elizabeth did not bother her husband with idle chatter as it was another quarter-mile before they came to a bend. Street vendors lined the path selling flowers. Darcy flipped a coin to the young maid selling roses and presented his wife with a small token of his affection. Elizabeth inhaled the beautiful scent and thanked him for his kindness. They walked on as the coolness of the morning began to wear off with the sun's higher angle, and just as Mr. Darcy signaled they ought to turn around, Elizabeth finally began the subject she was most anxious to discuss.

"With Jane most certainly to follow Richard to the Continent, I wonder if we might discuss my two sisters, Kitty and Mary, coming back to Pemberley with us?" Elizabeth asked in a rush.

Darcy's feet faltered for a moment at the request, but he recovered quickly before a full stumble. "I confess I was thinking more of the peace and quiet of just the two of us and Georgiana."

"That is precisely the reason I make the request. I fear your sister has had a little too much quiet and isolation from young women her age. And while I cannot all of my sisters are paragons of virtue, Kitty is harmless and needs guidance away from Lydia. And Mary, well, if we bring Mary we can set her in charge of the younger two," Elizabeth said

Darcy remained quiet and Elizabeth did not nettle him for a quick answer. She knew she had presented a radical idea to the peace and quiet the man so desperately deserved after a summer of an amnesiac wife, scandal, and a criminal in his home.

"Did she – Georgiana finally spoke to you?" Mr. Darcy asked remembering the disastrous interview yesterday afternoon in which Georgiana would say not a word until he left Elizabeth's bedroom. Elizabeth nodded.

"Pray, what did she say?" Darcy asked with the earnest tone of a nervous father.

Elizabeth shook her head. "I shall tell you precisely what I told her. I cannot play tittle-tattle between you. You need to speak with your sister as much as she needs to speak with you and there will have to be some changes in our household."

"And would not bringing Kitty and Mary reward her for a year of lies?"

Elizabeth shrugged and paused their progress. "She has spent a year in falsehood, but also a year in isolation with no one but an elderly companion to keep her company. She is a young girl without a mother and though you and Richard have done an admirable effort, Georgiana is woefully naïve and immature. I fear that if she does not spend time with more young women her own age, when we return to London to present her at Court, she will falter and suffer at the cruel hands of those who will bring her down." Elizabeth recalled the barbs and thinly veiled insults at the teas and luncheons Lady Matlock made her patron.

Darcy hummed to himself and Elizabeth pointed out that their companions of ducks had moved to the far side of the bank. They had found a new audience of young children tossing biscuits into the water.

"What if we sent them to school? All three of them, and Lydia if you wish it." Darcy suggested but Elizabeth frowned.

"I believe school would be a possibility after a year with us. Part of my aim in inviting both Kitty and Mary to Pemberley is to exact a punishment on Lydia as I seriously doubt my parents are equal to the measure. If after a time the girls blossom, then I believe a ladies; school in London might be the answer."

Darcy sighed. Visions of a quiet retreat in the country became replaced with the sounds of giggles of nonsensical girls.

"I suppose you are correct, I shudder to think of leaving Georgiana in the care of another at this time with Richard to go to the Continent, there would be none to keep an eye on her here."

Elizabeth stifled a laugh at the sour expression on her husband's face and finally admitting that it would be best to bring her two sisters to properly outnumber and challenge Georgiana. The girl needed more than simple instruction on how to pour a tea pot and who receives precedence when setting cards at a dinner table. And by the same logic, both Kitty and Mary needed to learn those things that Georgiana knew, and share with her how to find her own person and live a life of purpose.

"So will you and Richard speak to my father? I have a feeling after the situation with Lydia he will not be too keen to allow Mary or Kitty to travel away from Hertfordshire. But I also know that if we do not remove them, Lydia will poison both Mary and Kitty, especially Kitty, with her desire for attention and escape responsibility of her actions."

"And if Lydia is with child?" Darcy asked the same question that his wife asked of him just a week ago.

They reached the carriage and Elizabeth took a deep breath before taking her place, her latest ritual in pushing the thoughts of fear from her mind. As the carriage made the turn around to head back to the town home, Elizabeth explained.

"It would be months before we know definitively, and at that time, if Lydia needs to come to Pemberley to quietly have her baby, it would serve as an excuse for retrieving my sisters."

"And if she does not?" Mr. Darcy asked agreeing with his wife's sentiments, but truly wondering about the negative of such a situation.

Elizabeth mischievously grinned.

"How do you feel about the Bennets and the Gardiners joining us for Christmas?"

***************  
YAY, YAY! I can see an end to this project. It's so close. There is a cake in my refrigerator I cannot cut until I finisht his manuscript. Almost. There. 5 to go.


	53. Chapter 54

I struggled to write this scene. Didn't want to do it. Made myself and then when I ran through it just now to clean up the dictation to draft prose, I have all the feels! :) Thank you again for all of the reviews. Drift does originally mean someone's idea or what they are aiming to convey, from the 1500s. The idiom is very old, catch my drift. We use drift in an opposite meaning today than the original meaning. :) As to the review that called this story dime store drama, I am very sorry you did not care for it, but drama like Downton Abbey style is my writing style. All of my books are outrageous, page-turning adventures, it's what I liked to read in JAFF so it's what I write. :) I completely appreciate that I am not the author for you, but I will not be revising 30 some chapters to reduce the drama. :) It's my flair :) ::throws glitter in the air for pizzazz::

We are almost there. Thank you thank you thank you I still look at over 1,000 reviews and go WOW! Every single one of you is amazing.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

*********************

Fitzwilliam Darcy paced the hallway on the family floor of his London town home. Each time he passed his sister's door, he looked at the offending white portal, scowled, and paced some more. He wanted to go in there and yell to make himself feel better, but such an action would be disastrous for his relationship with Georgiana. Alternatively, he did not feel up to listening to her pining away over George Wickham and offer a sympathetic ear, either. And so he paced.

He was on his fourth circuit when suddenly the door opened and his sister glared at him with no traces of the young girl he helped raise since she was eight-years-old, but a fierce young woman.

"Please Brother, come in so we may speak. But every time you march down the hallway the mirror on my vanity shakes." Georgiana offered her brother a shy smile, which went a long way to calming Darcy's apprehensions about a long overdue meeting between brother and sister.

Darcy gulped and stoically entered his sister's room as she closed the door behind him. Leaving her brother standing not far beyond the threshold, Georgiana glided around his tall frame and took a seat on the cassone in front of her bed.

"I never meant to hurt you or Richard. Every moment after your arrival at Ramsgate happened so quickly. At first I was afraid my honesty would cut me from your life forever," Georgiana said with a slightly practiced cadence. Conversation with her brother's wife the previous day had not gone easily. Elizabeth forced her to let out all of the fears and worries she held from the day her brother arrived early to the vacation home up to the dinner where she confessed being the same as Lydia.

"I would never have sent you a way or cut you out of my life. Not even if you had married the man." Fitzwilliam wondered in the back of his mind if he was speaking truthful. The vista of his sister sitting at the foot of her bed allowed a glimpse to see the young child that once only wanted a new doll or sheet music for her pianoforte.

"I do believe that, but then I did not. And I only confessed because I saw how much you and our cousin fought for Lydia. If my brother would extend such effort and resources to recover a young woman so wholly unconnected to us…" Georgiana frowned as she realized this was not accurate. "Well, she is Elizabeth's sister, but it was so soon after your marriage, I would like to think that you would've done the same if you had not married over the anvil."

"I would," Fitzwilliam agreed with his sister's suppositions about his character. He carefully inspected a delicate ballerina figurine on his sister's bureau, a gift to his mother when he was a young boy after his father had to travel to the Continent for business. Almost around the time her sickness was certain to prematurely rob her of life. Darcy cleared his throat, wondering how much of the past he should tell his sister, about what he knew of George Wickham's origins. He decided that secret was not his to tell, nor one she might take very well. So he decided a brief gloss over Wickham's past would suffice.

"What you do not understand is I have cleaned up George Wickham's messes since we were boys. I took the lashes when he accused me of sleeping with the maids, though it was him. I paid the shopkeeper out of my allowance when he ruined his daughter. And I am the one who has paid for Mr. Wickham's debts in more than one town in our fair country."

Georgiana's face twisted in horror. "But why? He lied to me about all of those things, said it was you he often saved from gambling too much."

"When have you ever known me to go out? To play cards? To bet on anything?" Darcy asked his sister who furrowed her brows.

"I thought that perhaps you did so to avoid the gaming tables."

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He now saw what Elizabeth had tried to tell him that morning during their walk. His sister was not an idiot, but so gullible! She would believe a man like Wickham telling tales about his person, a brother that she lived with all of her life. She most certainly was not ready to be sent to a school.

"What about your… liaison?" Darcy forced himself to say the word. "I know there was no child, but have you hid any illness as well?" Darcy did not know if Wickham carried any diseases, but he would not be surprised, either. Georgiana slowly shook her head.

"I spoke with Elizabeth at length about what transpired between me and George. It was much the same as what Lydia shared. George said there was time for babies and he would not risk a child due personal control."

Darcy became confused. "Are you no longer a maiden or not?"

"I am not." Georgiana said in a small voice and looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Then I do not understand what you mean by . . ." But Darcy stopped that thought. A crude image of his sister with that cad clouded his vision and he suddenly understood all too well what happened. "I think I am beginning to see how George avoided fatherhood." Darcy again looked about the room, unwilling to look down at his sister during such a embarrassing conversation for both of them. He could have lived his entire life without knowing that as a way to avoid expenses, George Wickham avoided completion while sheathed in his paramour.

As more awkward silence filled the room, Fitzwilliam rubbed his chin with his hand and considered if there was anything more he wished to know about Georgiana's personal life. Finding there were no other details he needed to know about Wickham, Darcy grasped the chair by the fireplace and turned it around so that he could face his sister sitting at the foot of her bed. At her brother's sudden proximity, Georgiana looked up with tears in her eyes.

"You truly carried this burden for over a year?" Darcy asked now seeing the sympathy that Elizabeth felt for his sister. Georgiana nodded.

"Does Mrs. Annesley know?" Darcy asked. She shook her head. Fitzwilliam's heart ached for his sister, knowing all too well the pain involved of holding such a secret to himself.

"I meant my word, I will not send you away. My wife has made the suggestion that we bring Miss Mary and Miss Catherine with us when we leave for Pemberley after the wedding. Do you have any objections?"

Georgiana tried to wipe her eyes and her brother handed her handkerchief. With a sobbing voice, Georgiana exclaimed "No! I would dearly love the company."

"That is what Elizabeth suspected. But it will not just be a relaxed visit, you understand. We are intending to aid all three of you in pursuit of knowledge and maturity. If by next spring there is remarkable improvement, there are a number of schools for young ladies of our status that I believe you would benefit from attending."

"So you are sending me away?" Georgiana whimpered.

Fitzwilliam shook his head. "No, I am encouraging you and your sisters to seek improvement in any quarter where it is to be found. For a year you will remain with me and Elizabeth. And at the end of that year, in consultation with your wishes, I would like to see you pursue a formalized education with other young ladies your age."

"And at eighteen I am to be presented at Court." Georgiana finished. Darcy nodded.

"Now you understand why I wish for you to attend a school. The friendships you and your sisters make there will go a long way when the three of you debut in London as debutantes."

Georgiana brightened at the declaration she would not be denied a London Season despite her past. "Oh, Fitzwilliam, but what about—"

Darcy held up his hands to stop his sister's question.

"You shall dance and twirl and be courted and if there are any serious suitors at the end of the season, then I shall handle the delicate negotiations. However, this all predicates upon good behavior from here forward especially honesty, and that no word of what you have done reaches the gossipmongers." Georgiana nodded as her brother named the hefty obstacles between the present day and the future of glittering balls.

When Georgiana looked down at her hands, Fitzwilliam knew the question that was coming before she even spoke it. With a gentle nudging, finally his sister was willing to speak freely.

"What about Lydia?"

Darcy fumed out a sigh as he knew what he wished for Miss Lydia, but she was not his child to discipline. "While there are similarities between what happened to you and what happened with Lydia, you were not the same. If you had boarded that carriage with George Wickham, well, who knows what future we would be living today. But the fact remains you avoided transgression that Lydia sought out, and while you withheld vital information, you did atone for that burden for over a year. Our sister Lydia has not traveled the length of a year to carefully consider her actions."

"Will she be sent away?"

"There are still many factors that depend on the outcome. If she is with child –"

"But she isn't. She cannot be." Georgianna shook her head enthusiastically but her brother disagreed.

"I understand what that man told you and can envision what happened, but that is not a foolproof way of avoiding progeny."

Georgiana froze with shock.

"Oh."

Darcy watched as the understanding of the risks she took fully registered in his sister's mind.

"Is the reason you never told me or Richard what happened because you thought yourself unable to be with child?"

Slowly, Georgianna nodded.

Inwardly, Darcy felt thankful for the good sense of the woman he married. Elizabeth was correct again there was much more involved with why his sister kept her secret.

"I must see to a few other matters, and I hope I have not distressed you too much." Fitzwilliam stood and Georgiana told her brother that he had not. "Would you like to for me to send Mrs. Annesley in?" Again, Georgiana slowly shook her head.

"I apologize, Fitzwilliam. I had no right to keep what I did a–"

Georgiana ceased talking when her brother pulled her into a fierce hug. The important part was that they had not lost one another, whatever consequences came in the future, Fitzwilliam made sure his sister understood she would not have to face them alone.

After Fitzwilliam left his sister's room, the enormity of her loneliness and isolation crushed his heart. In another time he would go down to his study and have a drink to alleviate the pain. But this time, and for everyday forward, he had a new solution available.

Directly, he walked over to the door next to his own rooms and knocked. As Darcy accepted his wife's invitation to enter, he happily realized that he and Georgiana would never have to be alone ever again.

***********************  
Set down for Lady Matlock, queue it up . . . :) probably tomorrow morning, I need to go write the ball and the wedding and the epilogue, even though I already did 5,000 words today. FOR CAKE!

Your neighborhood Darcy addict,  
Elizabeth Ann West


	54. Chapter 55

_Here we go, I typed THE END today. I am going to post the WHOLE ENDING now in the next few chapters to give you all a chance to chime in on the ending. Anyone who preorders a copy or purchases a copy when it releases December 31, THANK YOU! For the next week, me and my editors will be cleaning everything up and making minor edits that didn't get here to Fanfiction though I did try to bring as many updates as possible. Things like I am adding a line in the scene where Darcy and Elizabeth wake up in their town home that Darcy says Richard has a plan when they couldn't find Wickham, etc. Most of the time my subconcious handles all that and I'm adding details I didn't even know I would use later on, but this story went through so many radical changes, there are a few openings for those kinds of adjustments. :)  
_  
 _Your reviews DO matter, so please feel free to keep them coming. Will be great incentive to start on the next story tomorrow . . . :)_

 _All my love,_

 _Elizabeth Ann West_

 _*************************_

Two days before Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy were to stand up for all of London to repeat their nuptials, Lady Matlock arrived at Darcy House with the same mission she had for each day since their arrival from Scotland. The butler led her ladyship to the parlor where she appeared surprised to find not just Elizabeth Darcy, but also Elizabeth's sister Jane, her son Richard, and her nephew. Usually when she came to collect Elizabeth for the daily rounds of visits and places to be seen the men had long left to see about their business. Spying her son in a close conversation with Miss Bennet did not please Regina Fitzwilliam in any way.

"Will you change your attire before we are to leave? The color of gray is not appropriate for a fresh young bride."

Elizabeth glanced down at her frock and smirked at her subconscious way of marking the day. "I sent a note. I am not up to social visits today."

Lady Matlock rolled her eyes. This time, she was not going to let Mrs. Darcy off with an excuse. If the woman was well enough to hold conversation in her own parlor, she was well enough to hold the same conversation in another parlor. "You look plenty well to me."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Truly, your ladyship, I have no desire to make idle chatter with those oblivious to the pain I feel." Elizabeth looked away and Lady Matlock, angry at being dismissed so summarily out of hand, barked at her nephew.

"Fitzwilliam, kindly explain to your wife how much your business and your status depends upon her performance in the social world. I can understand growing up in the country she is not familiar with our customs, but with the ball two days away and so many leaving for the country, it is imperative we impress all we can to attend both the ball and the church ceremony." Lady Matlock glared at Elizabeth who sat on the sofa leaning against the arm. Fitzwilliam ignored his aunt for a moment and poured himself and his wife a drink, carrying the glass of whisky over to her. The peculiar behavior of her nephew and his wife infuriated his aunt.

"You poor her drink? And whisky? It is much too vulgar a drink for a lady!"

Elizabeth offered her husband a minxish smile as she accepted her glass and raised it as a toast towards Lady Matlock. "I have found whisky to be a lady's best companion in finding husband." She and Darcy enjoyed a subtle laugh as Lady Matlock turned her attention to her son.

"And why are you here, son? You left the house quite early this morning saying you had to report to Headquarters. And yet I find you here." Lady Matlock spat out the accusation of nefarious behavior without naming the offense.

Richard gave Jane a knowing look, sighing in sympathy that they would both have to play their parts to keep the plans of a double wedding from his mother, just in case.

"Mother I had to report to headquarters this morning to sign the final orders for me to leave for Spain. My travel arrangements have been set and I will be on my way to the Continent by this time next week." Richard stood up and bowed to his mother before he continued. "There was also the added displeasure of watching George Wickham hanged for his crimes at dawn." All four of the inhabitants of the room shifted uncomfortably at the declaration of George's fate.

"Is that why you all have the longest faces in all of London? You mourn a criminal?" Lady Matlock scoffed and tried to make eye contact with any of the other four adults to no avail.

Elizabeth swallowed and stood from her place on the sofa to stand next to her husband. "George Wickham made choices in life that necessitated his punishment, and I believe the boy that grew up at Pemberley is who is mourned today as well as the acquaintance we thought capable of living a better life."

All eyes turned to Elizabeth as she so eloquently conveyed the tumultuous emotions going through so many in the room. No one wanted to confess that they felt pain at the death of a deserter. And yet Mr. Wickham's affiliation with the Darcy family since his infancy meant that the death of a half-brother Fitzwilliam could never declare could also not go unnoticed.

"I said a prayer for him in church yesterday," Jane confessed. Elizabeth looked at her sister in solidarity as Jane held tears in her eyes. For the Bennet girls, they had never been this close to a capital punishment. Their father never took them to the village to see justice carried out and impressed upon them it was not a spectacle for any man to lose his life.

"I did as well," Elizabeth said.

"There. You have done your Christian duty, and now I ask of you to fulfill your duty as a wife. Go above stairs and change into that lovely blush colored frock that you ordered last week. It matches your skin tone so well, and I shall wait here for us to leave." Lady Matlock again attempted to take command of the situation.

Elizabeth looked at her husband who set his empty glass of whisky on the mantle of the fireplace. "It is not the duty of my wife to listen to my relations who have overstepped their positions," Darcy said icily.

"I have not overstepped! Everything, the planning, the preparations, the guest list, the expense, I have done all of this for you. Do not speak to me about my place in this family, Fitzwilliam." Lady Matlock thought the matter settled, but she grossly underestimated her nephew.

"And I say my house will hold a day of reflection in light of the fact that a criminal apprehended within these walls has been put to death. There will be no social engagements this day. And that is my word." Fitzwilliam Darcy rarely raised his voice to a lady, and even now the volume raise was scarcely perceptible that in the direction of his aunt. But the fierce stare in his eyes stopped his aunt in her tracks.

Lady Matlock pressed her lips into a thin line disapproval. Deciding to let Darcy have his win, she turned on her heel to challenge her son.

"Come Richard, escort me back to Matlock House. I find myself unwilling to expend any energies to help the ungrateful." Lady Matlock took no leave of the party at Darcy House and Richard muttered a soft apology to Jane as he helped escort his mother out of the house.

Gently rubbing her husband's arm, Elizabeth expressed her thanks to her husband for his support and nearly embraced him to see the hurt in his eyes. Only she knew the depth of despair Darcy felt of the loss of so much potential in George Wickham. True, Fitzwilliam had accepted the man George became long ago, but his death spoke of a finality there was not to be any redemption.

"If you will excuse me, I believe I have some work I can see to in my study. Letters, contracts, I'm certain I can find something that should be addressed."

Elizabeth nodded. "There is a reprieve today, but with the ball tomorrow I fear the next few days will generally not be our own," she reasoned.

"Richard and I plan to call upon your father tomorrow and give to him our terms. You are certain, Jane, that you wish to marry in a day's time?" Darcy played the attentive older brother that the Bennet sisters never had. Jane giggled and blushed.

"Yes, I am certain. I am frightened and anxious, but I know if I have Richard by my side I shall be safe."

"And loved!" Elizabeth teased and the two sisters fell into a laughter that signaled for Mr. Darcy his presence became superfluous. As he left the parlor, he passed his sister Georgiana who asked if their aunt had just been to visit.

"Yes, and so has Richard. I am afraid that Mr. Wickham is no more."

Georgiana covered her mouth in shock and Darcy prepared to support his sister if the news was too much, but to his surprise she recovered, setting her shoulders back to hold her head up high. "It is unfortunate to be sure, but I believe deserved."

The two siblings shared a pert nod and Darcy explained that Elizabeth and Jane were in the parlor if Georgiana wished to join them. In another sign of her growing maturity, Georgiana stated that she would, and as the parlor door slid open and Darcy watched the perfect posture of his sister as she entered the room. The man felt a small glimmer of hope that though the changes for his family would be many, there would be love and companionship to see them all through.


	55. Chapter 56

The day of the Matlock Ball to honor the union Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet met everyone with heavy responsibilities. Darcy and Richard took the former's carriage to Cheapside as most of the Bennet daughters already arrived at Darcy House for the day's preparations for the evening festivities. It was by design the two men left this business for the day before the wedding to permit no outside influences to their plans.

Once admitted into the Gardiner town home in Cheapside, the two men found Mr. Bennet nursing a brandy and reading a book while Mr. Gardiner Saturday's desk furiously writing out letter after letter. It was the younger man who greeted Mr. Darcy and the Colonel.

Edward Gardiner reached out a hand to shake Mr. Darcy's and Richard's in congratulations.

"Forgive us, we did not mean to interrupt your business." Mr. Darcy said after thanking the man for his good tidings.

Edward Gardiner looked over his shoulder at his desk covered in parchment. He laughed. "Most of this is your fault. I don't know what you said at your club, but suddenly my client list has doubled!"

Mr. Darcy shrugged. "I shared nothing more than the truth, you run a fine business. If I had known that the main suppliers of my household directly benefited from your warehouses earlier, I would have shared that with my friends and acquaintances long before I married Elizabeth."

The cheerful conversation between the three men became interrupted as Mr. Bennet fell into a coughing fit and all three turned to look at the man.

"Ignore me, I have plans to finish this book and sleep in my own bed tomorrow," Mr. Bennet dismissed the concern.

"It is you, sir, that we have come to see." Richard put himself forward as a primary speaker of their plans. "I have asked for your daughter's hand in marriage and I am happy to report that she has accepted. I procured a special license from His Grace and it is our intention to marry tomorrow with Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth."

Mr. Bennet released an exasperated sigh and closed his book. Interlacing his fingers, he set his elbows on the arms of the chair and considered the military man who turned suitor before him.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific. I have four unmarried daughters, your cousin claiming the fifth, exactly which one did you propose to?" Mr. Bennet asked sardonically.

Richard's eyes widened that he had made such an oversight and that Mr. Bennet would not have guessed it was the loveliest Jane he had offered marriage. But no matter, Richard quickly fixed his mistake and blurted out Jane's name to Mr. Bennet.

"The men in your family must never worry of being disappointed," Mr. Bennet started. "No, no, do not seek to defend your position. I know mine, there is no use in pretending yours."

"I believe I do not catch your meaning, sir." Mr. Darcy began to lose this patience with the ever exasperating Mr. Bennet.

"You come here the day before the wedding to ask my blessing? Were you afraid I might decline and cause a problem for the nuptials? Perhaps I might take my daughter home, keep the claws of the Fitzwilliam family from digging into the skin of another Bennet."

Richard and Darcy looked at one another in complete confusion. They expected Mr. Bennet to be unhappy anything more was required of him, but not unhappy to see another daughter so well-settled. The intention of keeping the plan a secret had nothing to do with obstruction on the Bennet side. No other father in London would throw disdain on a daughter marrying the son of an earl, but Mr. Bennet fiercely possessed a uniqueness none would ever believe if they shared the story at the club.

"It was the express wish of your daughter, Jane, that she not detract from her sister Elizabeth and thus the secrecy. There was apprehension if we came sooner, your wife might learn of the intrigue and subject Miss Bennet to a fuss she neither required nor sought," Mr. Darcy explained.

"Jane never did like the spotlight," Mr. Gardiner offered, finding the explanation entirely valid.

"And Jane is also more than one and twenty. She does not need my blessing nor my attendance," Mr. Bennet said pretending to return to his reading before Mr. Gardiner's anger got the best of him. The youngest brother Mr. Bennet's wife stormed forward and yanked the book out of his brother-in-law's hands.

"While you always were quick to play a misanthrope, this time you shall not. Your eldest daughters have done nothing to deserve your censure, other than imposing the inconvenience upon you of living their future lives!" Edward yelled.

Mr. Bennet leaned back and shivered in shock at his brother-in-law's admonishment. "And what else shall I do, Edward? I'm certain you have more on your chest you wish to release."

Edward Gardiner did not shy at Mr. Bennet's dismissal. He did in fact have a great deal more on his chest to share and the absent father of his favorite nieces was going to hear it. That Mr. Darcy and Richard were present mattered not to Mr. Gardiner, he already knew of the plans for all involved and heartily agreed with his niece Elizabeth's decisions.

"After the weddings, which you will walk your daughters down the aisle, Mary and Kitty are to go to Pemberley. You will take Lydia home the Longbourn and lock her up if need be. But under no circumstances will you shower her with attention and fripperies she neither deserves nor appreciates. It is time for you to get your house in order Bennet, because the time has passed for inaction in regards to the girls. They have nothing to rely upon after your death and I know you are not so cruel as to sentence them to a life of poverty."

"But why should they live in poverty? Mr. Darcy here is now their brother, and clearly up to the task of taking on the role of father since I am to be relieved of two of my daughters without my consent," Mr. Bennet started, but Mr. Gardiner was not finished.

"Your wife has been apprised of the plan already, I dare say none of us have room for consent or changes. If Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are willing to take Catherine and Mary under their wing, we should be grateful. And your youngest is not in the clear as to her reputation. There still could very well be grave consequences of her lark," Mr. Gardiner looked to Mr. Darcy to see if he had covered the majority of the plan and Darcy nodded.

"I know where he will live with Lizzie, but what about you? After you marry my Jane, where shall you support your wife? I was not aware of any houses in your name." Mr. Bennet asked in the interest of his daughter's welfare more than the embarrassment of the colonel.

Richard inhaled deeply and set his shoulders in a perfect square, a habit of standing so often at attention. "I have accepted a post, a command in fact, in Spain. We shall be provided lodgings in the town and God willing, maintain the position until peace is reached."

"And when the war concludes? For surely it must, what will a man of your skills do to support a family?"

Richard swallowed and bowed to his elder. "My grandfather has left me a small inheritance aside from the estate of Matlock and I shall sell my commission. Jane will not suffer a want that is in my power to grant."

Mr. Bennet sniffed as he could not find any other argument, not that he expected anything he might say would matter much. "I hear you possess a very well stocked library, Mr. Darcy. Do you have a copy of _The Rosicrucian?"_

 _"_ Two. One at Pemberley and one here in London."

Mr. Bennet took a sip of his brandy. "Ah, I have wished to read that. I believe when I travel with my daughters to drop them off at Pemberley and retrieve them later I might stay a month or more."

Richard laughed at his cousin's bad luck but Darcy only bowed. "Our home is always open to Elizabeth's family." Inwardly, Darcy decided they would install a private library in the family wing for him and his bride to enjoy without the meddling of family. And he would send the letter today for his staff to begin refreshing both the suites for Georgiana and Elizabeth's sisters and to begin the conversion of his old room for the library. Plato had been correct that necessity was the mother of all invention.


	56. Chapter 57

Here we go, last few scenes. Remember, if you've been following along, this is probably going to feel rushed, but if some was sitting down adn reading this actively from the start, by now they want the wedding like 20 chapters ago. :) :)

Oh, and I managed to work Lady Catherine in.

***************

Despite the late period of the season, carriages lined the block for admission to the Matlock Ball to honor the marriage of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Practically stripped of all furniture, the town home admitted the top of the social elite along with the Gardiners and the Bingleys in one of the most diverse gatherings Regina Fitzwilliam, Countess of Matlock, ever had occasion to host.

As the musicians began their warm up, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth stood together in the set with her sister Jane and his cousin Richard. To the attendees, the first set represented a preview of the ceremony tomorrow when Jane and Richard would stand up from Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet in church. But the arrangement brought displeasure to Lady Matlock and she complained such to her husband and eldest son.

"Why is Richard standing up with her sister? He is giving her too much consideration in public."

"Ginny, it is expected. Leave the boy alone." Garland Fitzwilliam, the ninth Earl of Matlock, calmed his wife out of the side of his mouth as he offered nods and smiles to his acquaintances and those deserving of his notice.

"James, why have you not taken your place for the set?" Lady Mallock began to fret as more of the line began to fill.

"She looks rather pretty." James Fitzwilliam, Viscount of Rutherford, made eye contact with a lady ethereally dressed. Kitty Bennet blushed and looked down at the notice. Lady Matlock snorted through her nose and pulled her son's arm to twist him in a different direction.

"That is enough Bennets for now, find another. We will not be a laughingstock, there, see, Lady Susan is waiting." Lady Matlock practically shoved her son in the direction of the fifth daughter of a duke and then broke out her fan to fervently move the air around her person.

The set began, an enthusiastic Scottish country dance with many turns and quicksteps. The suggestion of opening the ball with a song from Scotland was a design of Fitzwilliam Darcy to give a nod to the more romantic beginnings of his marriage. As the dance moves called for the foursome to swap partners and return again, Jane, Richard, Elizabeth, and Fitzwilliam smiled and laughed at their private party within the larger ball. Lady Matlock's careful observation became interrupted when Thomas Bennet, looking quite debonair dressed up formally for the ball, approached her ladyship and bowed low.

"It is my understanding it is customary for members of the family to unite with a set on the dance floor. Could I trouble you for the next set?" Lady Matlock's eyes flicked quickly to find her husband making a similar request of Mrs. Bennet, much to the lady's eternal delight that she shared enthusiastically with anyone in her vicinity. The die was cast, the wedding in the morning. Regina Fitzwilliam had no choice but to play her part increasingly feeling as though she were the one being punished for the scandal.

She accepted Mr. Bennet's offer and then found an acquaintance to pass the time with before her obligation. When they lined up in the set, Lady Matlock frowned to see that her nephew and her son had merely swapped partners, therefore again preserving their party of four in the lines.

The candles burned to nearly the halfway mark and all in attendance reveled and danced at the smartest ball of the year. Without members of the royal family in attendance, the patrons were free to seek relief in their dance and alcohol in their cups. Thankfully, the crowd had turned a bit rowdy when disaster walked through the door bearing the name of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Her brother, Garland Fitzwilliam intercepted his sister, speaking forcefully as she was escorted into the ball by her young niece, Lady Olivia.

"Catherine," he greeted his sister and pecked her cheek. "We had no idea you were visiting London."

"Visiting? I should say not. I came as quickly as a report of this disastrous union reached my ears. Where is Fitzwilliam? Where is that boy?" Lady Catherine tried to look over her brother's shoulder, but standing and neat six inches shorter than him, the squat old lady managed little more than leaning over to look around him, but Garland kept blocking her path.

"Lower your voice, Catty. They are already married. Weeks ago over the anvil. This is merely the stamp of approval we are all bestowing in the name of our family's future." Though he be the junior, Garland Fitzwilliam sounded dearly like their father, and for a moment Lady Catherine felt transported back twenty plus years ago to a similar ball where her father was not happy his daughter Anne had selected an untitled man despite his wealth. Catherine shook her head to cast off the memories of the past.

"Unacceptable. You do not bestow sweets on a misbehaving child. I refuse to participate in the charade. Where is Regina? She will join me in this." Catherine raised her voice as her brother looped his arm in hers and began walking her back toward the door. Over his shoulder he instructed his daughter that he would deal with her after, and Lady Olivia slunk away to disappear in the din.

"I'm afraid my wife is indisposed at the moment, she is dancing with Mrs. Darcy's uncle. She planned the entire affair, I don't believe you'll find an ally there. Go home Catherine, or as it is late go above stairs and take a rest. You know this is your home as well."

Lady Catherine began to scoff more, but a glare from her brother silenced her on the subject. Declaring she took no leave of him, she accepted his offer to go up upstairs and find rest. But she declared she would not be attending the ceremony in the morning.

Although Garland Fitzwilliam did not say such, in his mind he thanked Providence his older sister and her cantankerous mood would not attend the wedding. And she would not stay at the ball and needle him for an alliance between her sickly daughter and James, either.

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth missed the entire display of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as they sat out the set before supper on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Elizabeth stood so close to her husband, just another half an inch she would be leaning up against him. But they were under strict instructions not to draw attention to the fact that they were indeed newlyweds, for a semblance of tradition.

"Did you love me before your carriage accident?" Fitzwilliam Darcy closed his eyes as his wife looked up at the stars. When Elizabeth's silence felt it had passed for too long, he opened his eyes to find his wife had turned around to look directly at him. The torches lit on each corner of the balcony danced in the reflection of her eyes and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I believe the reason I had a carriage accident is because I loved you, sir."

Elizabeth's answer confused Darcy and he asked her to explain. She shrugged and cast the rules aside as she nestled her cheek against his chest.

"From the minute I left Longbourn, I feared if we never found my sister I would never make things right with you. I agonized most days over our conversations and can recite to you the contents of each with great accuracy."

Fitzwilliam gulped at the stirring passions his wife's proximity began to awaken.

"Yet you cannot recall our time in Scotland at the blacksmith." Fitzwilliam attempted to keep the conversation level. But Elizabeth shook her head against this person, which felt closer to a nuzzle than a negative response.

"No, but I shall remember tomorrow for all of my life." Elizabeth Darcy tilted her head back just as her husband leaned forward and the husband and wife that had gone about things all wrong in the eyes of Society, kissed with all of their love for one another.

The affection was short-lived however, when Lady Matlock burst onto the balcony and separated the two with her sharp exclamation.

"Fitzwilliam! I need you. Your cousin is dancing for a third time with her sister. He is raising expectations!" Lady Matlock fervently waved her hands and her nephew nodded but held up his hand to signal he needed a moment. Lady Matlock scowled but turned around and went back inside as she could not be away from the ballroom for too long.

When Darcy's aunt could no longer be seen, both Mr. and Mrs. Darcy burst out laughing. They kissed once more, no longer caring about the acceptance or stamp of approval any of the evening would see fit to bestow, and Darcy grasped his wife's hands to pull them close to his chest.

"Will you miss this life? All of the gilt and jewels of London? I know what we spoke of when we left Scotland, but now that you have seen it, I would understand if you would be more comfortable splitting our year between Town and the country."

Elizabeth leaned her head to the side to see through the windows the blurry figures laughing and dancing and joking. She also knew despite appearances an undercurrent of jealousy, wrath, and greed coursed through every conversation and interaction.

"I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you, husband. I loved country dances and assemblies, but that is felicity shared between neighbors. What London has to offer is something I confess I never desired. If we should return to town but once a year, I feel I will be more than satisfied."

Her husband agreed as they slowly began to walk back toward the door to reenter the fray.

"One more set, my lady?" Fitzwilliam Darcy offered his wife the charm of a gentleman he mostly kept concealed for the very reason his aunt now complained about his cousin. Elizabeth Darcy giggled, but rewarded her husband's request with a peck upon the tip of his nose before she quickly pulled away.

"And then we can go home?"

"You have the uncanny ability to express my sentiments exactly, Madam."

***************  
Not going to lie, this scene almost felt like a perfect ending to me. BUT, I think what did become the ending and wasn't planned the way it happened, works the best. Can't wait to hear what you all think.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	57. Chapter 58

Here we go. Last scene. I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations.

XOXOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

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The double wedding of two Bennet women to the cousins Fitzwilliam Darcy and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam surprisingly packed the sanctuary of St. George's. It was rumored that some came back to London just to see for themselves if the famously rich bachelor would indeed marry or if the gossip had been false. And like it was planned in the parlor of Darcy House weeks ago, not a word was said about any scandal. Only the romantic notion of an elopement for the younger generation and a complaints amongst the older patrons for the lack of respect of their elders.

For those who did wake early on the thirtieth of July to make the nine o'clock ceremony, the surprises began when Mr. Bennet escorted not just one daughter down the aisle, but two. At the altar, Fitzwilliam Darcy, dressed impeccably in a midnight blue coat in contrast to his cousin's robin breast red Regimentals, stepped to the side to allow Richard Fitzwilliam and equal space before the Archbishop of Canterbury.

In the front pew, Regina Fitzwilliam plastered a fake smile of cheer as she leaned over to her husband and urged him to do something, immediately.

"Look, Richard is going to marry the other sister!" she hissed in a whisper.

Garland leaned over to his wife, pretending to wish to watch the processional with greater care. "Yes, Richard came to me last week. He has my blessing."

As the ceremony began, Lady Matlock would not give up.

"Why was I not consulted?"

Garland patted his wife's hand as the Archbishop began the service and Mr. Bennet took his seat after declaring he presented his daughters. They neared the section where declarations of impediments were asked and Lord Matlock squeezed his wife's hand. He glared at her to impress she was not to say a word.

The congregation looked around and Jane fretfully looked to Elizabeth. Though the Bingleys came to the ball the previous evening and she and Richard had endured some embarrassment when Charles asked her to dance, it did not appear that either Mr. Bingley or Miss Bingley came to the wedding.

The silence sufficient, His Grace continued,

"Richard Louis Bartholomew Fitzwilliam, wilt thou have this woman to they wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?"

Jane held her breath as the Archbishop continued, her weight slowly shifting more and more to her toes as her anxiety heightened. But to her relief, Richard responded:

"I will."

Then it was her turn, and though she felt she had sounded like a mouse, the congregation scarcely held back a chuckle when Jane Bennet loudly proclaimed her will after the Archbishop's question.

When it came time for the Darcys, Elizabeth was not called by her married surname, but by her father's name, as a declaration that the Scottish ceremony no longer stood valid. Their declaration came swift and sure, with the couple looking directly at one another, lost to the world around them, as a direct consequence of their increased familiarity.

The hefty bells tolled in jubilation as the two couples signed the register and the wedding breakfast was hosted at Darcy House. Mr. Bennet kept his word to his brother-in-law and Lydia Bennet, while present for the ceremony, was quietly driven away to the Gardiner household to miss the festivities, much like she had not been permitted to attend the ball the previous night.

Kitty, Mary, and Georgiana found they shared a solidarity in the crush of people so wholly focused on Jane and Elizabeth and their husbands. Most sought out to congratulate the happy couples and wish the Fitzwilliams safe travels.

"Do you enjoy sketching?" Kitty tentatively asked Georgiana as the three girls sat together and ate their cake.

"I have not much experience," Georgiana answered truthfully, but when Kitty appeared crestfallen, she took it upon herself to offer kindness. "But I would very much like to practice." As Kitty smiled, Mary braved a question of her own.

"And you play the pianoforte?"

At this, Georgiana heartily nodded and soon she and Mary began conversing about sonnets. Kitty did not mind only observing the conversation around her, the artist in her found occupation watching the subtle exchanges between her sister Elizabeth and her new brother, Fitzwilliam. She made note of her sister's smile that she had never seen so wide and the mostly somber man in her presence rival her sister in his expression of joy. Kitty stared and stared and forced the memory to implant in her mind with hope of capturing the sentiment that evening in her sketch pad.

But Kitty did not have to wait until evening. By noon, the party had dispersed with Jane going to Matlock House with her husband, a final separation of the two eldest Bennet sisters that made them linger in the hall. Jane's room at Darcy House now held the trunks of Kitty and Mary, a change made by the servants during the wedding ceremony, and Catherine Bennet began her sketch of love in haste.

The piano keys tinkled with duets as Kitty rubbed her eraser over her sister's penciled eyes for the third time. She had not quite seized the proper angle of Elizabeth's delight. And though she had begun that morning with anxiety over the plan to move her to Pemberley with her sister Mary and her married sister, Elizabeth, Kitty found a contentment in the peace and quiet her new situation bestowed.

Elizabeth Darcy had checked on her sisters and found them satisfactorily situated before taking refuge in her room. She had not spent much time with Fiona in removing the jewels and pins before her husband came to call.

"We will not need your services the rest of the day, Fiona," Fitzwilliam said with a smile that his wife returned, but she scolded him for his declaration.

"That is not true! We will take dinner with our sisters and I will see you at four to prepare." Elizabeth Darcy spoke with the confidence of her position as mistress.

Darcy growled. "Please relay a similar sentiment to Mr. Stewart."

Alone with his wife, Fitzwilliam lifted Elizabeth easily across his arms and carried her to her bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed at his singular mission.

"Mr. Darcy, it is the middle of the afternoon!"

"So it is. And I have a wife to love."

"Sir."

"Madam."

"You are impossible," she said as he laid her gently upon the mattress and supported her neck with his left hand and he expertly extracted the pins in her hair with his right. Each pull relieved Elizabeth of a tiny strain on her nerves and replaced it with gentle massage of his fingers on her scalp. She closed her eyes and gently moaned.

Carefully, her husband leaned down to kiss his sleeping beauty, his fingers feeling the scar formed from her accident that landed her in his arms.

"And you are irresistible. Like a fine glass of whisky."

And there you go, The Whisky Wedding, rough draft. :) All comments and reviews for the next 2-3 days will absolutely be taken into consideration as 3 of us wrangle this beast of a story for publication. The book can be preordered on Amazon, Google, iTunes and Nook. :) And it will publish everywhere December 31, 2016. I am making that a commitment, every last day of the month a new story from me. :)

Each and every one of you have made this story an absolute joy to write. I struggle when I feel alone, but thanks to Janeside and reviews here on Fanfiction, I didn't feel alone a single solitary day. Thank you. More than thank you. Whatever is thank you to the nth power, THAT word. :)

And between now and December 18, every one who leaves a review I will list your handle as a special thank you in the back of the book for the world to see. We did this.

And tomorrow we start a new story! HUZZAH!

Love,

Elizabeth Ann West


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